#i want to write more of this like i havent even scratched the surface

[obwjam]

Officially submitting a request for any ghostbusters gt or Jurassic Park gt one shot or even headcannons

okay so i've been working on this ghostbusters story for like a week and i just kept writing and writing and writing so this is super long, please accept my offering 🫴🫴🫴

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Really, it was just another day at the office. 

You, Ray and Egon? You were over in the lab, poring over red goo and test tubes and weird steam that had stumped you three for days. You knew this slime responded to human emotion in some way, but you just didn’t know quite what it did.

Winston? He was talking to Janine, trying to sort out next month’s schedule, papers falling from his arms as he tried to keep everything straight. 

And Venkman? He was sitting, legs crossed, feet up on the table, chomping down on a sandwich as he flicked through channels on TV. 

Typical Venkman, as far as you were concerned. 

“This doesn’t make any sense,” you sighed. “It’s just — it’s like — where are those lab notes from last week?”

Ray shrugged. “I dunno. Egon, have you seen Del’s papers?”

“Hm?” Egon finally answered after a full 30 seconds of silence. “Oh, uh. No. No, I haven’t, sorry.”

“You’re always losing things, aren’t you, newbie?”

Just the sound of his voice made your blood boil. “Alright, Venkman,” you rolled your eyes. “And I’m not a newbie. I’ve been here since February.”

“Yeah, yeah, talk to me when you save the world and blow up a giant marshmallow, okay?”

You groaned. “Does he have to be here?” you pleaded with your lab partners. 

“Of course he does, Del,” Ray said, eyes not once wavering from the experiment in front of him. 

“Just pretend he’s not here. That’s what I do,” Winston deadpanned as he whisked past you. 

“Love you too, buddy!” Venkman called out. 

“Okay, enough talking now, please,” you snipped. “This is confusing enough as it is—“

“Ray? Egon? There’s a gentleman from the Post who wants to speak with you both,” Janine ran into the room, almost out of breath. “And he won't go away.”

Ray and Egon looked at each other and shrugged. “Fine, tell him we’ll be there in five minutes,” Ray said. 

You watched in almost horror as the two unceremoniously left the room, leaving you alone with Venkman. Great. 

“So, egghead,” Venkman started, sandwich still in hand as he pushed himself up. You heaved another sigh. “What kind of nerdy fun do you get up to over here?”

“Not now, Venkman, please,” you begged. “This slime is serious stuff. And no food in the lab.”

“Psh. It’s not that serious. I’ve been slimed before. We all have.” He paused. “Well, almost all of us.”

You bit down on your tongue to keep from screaming. Peter didn’t want you here, that much was clear. He was perfectly comfortable with the four-man operation, and he strongly opposed your addition even when Egon and Ray begged for it. He eventually relented, but only because he knew it was a battle he couldn't win. You always figured he had it out for you so you’d be forced to quit on your own. The demeaning nicknames, the constant teasing, acting like you didn’t know what you were doing; you couldn’t take it much longer. 

“Well, this one is important,” you retorted. “It’s from that weird ass ghost we came across last week. The composition of this, it’s… different than the others.”

“Hm. Different how?”

You turned to him and glared. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, sheesh. No need to get snippy.”

“I have to get snippy when you won't listen.”

“Woah, hey, alright now. Is there a problem?”

“Yeah, there is!” you fumed. “You don’t want me here.”

“Oh, we’re just making stuff up now, are we? You know, just because you can’t instantly figure out the solution to a new problem doesn’t mean you can take it out on me!”

“This— this isn't about the slime!” you scoffed in surprise. “This is about you not respecting me here!”

As the bickering continued, neither of you noticed the way the goo began to jiggle and make strange gurgling noises. It only got louder as the arguing went on, until Venkman noticed it was emanating an eerie glow. 

“Uh, why is your goo glowing?”

“What are you talking about—” you started, but never got to finish. As soon as you turned and you both were looking at it, the light became blinding and filled the room. You and Venkman shut your eyes and covered your ears as a deafening whining filled both of your heads for the briefest of moments before it all came to a halt. 

When you opened your eyes, all you could see was white. You were sitting down, somehow, and you suddenly had a splitting headache that was definitely not there a second ago. 

“Ugh… what happened?” you mumbled. Your eyes widened at the weird sensation you felt when speaking — like you were alone in a sprawling field and all your words had floated out into the void, never to be heard by another living soul.  

“Venkman?” you tried. Nothing. It took a few seconds to blink away the residual light, but you finally managed to see straight again. A shiver ran down your spine as you adjusted your glasses. Why were you so cold?

As soon as you saw it, you knew. 

You had felt this weird looming sensation, so you spun around on your butt to see what was behind you. It wasn’t a person, or a ghost. It was a sandwich. Venkman’s sandwich. Which was now as tall as a house. 

You were on top of the table, and you were tiny. 

“Ho-ly shit…” you murmured, shakily pushing yourself back. Panic was beginning to set in as you took in the now-giant world around you. How was this even possible? Would your health be affected in any way? How were you going to fix this? You couldn’t let anyone see you like this!

“What did you do?!” a voice rang out from behind you. You groaned and turned around. Venkman had shrunk with you.

“What did I do? Are you kidding me? You’re gonna blame me for this?”

“I bet it was that freaking slime,” he muttered, already turning his attention away from you. His eyes darted around the table, which looked more like the Great Plains than a lab counter, to find where the goo you were observing was. He tried to pretend he wasn’t utterly freaked out when the tupperware container holding it came up to his neck.

“It’s like it’s laughing at us,” he sneered, observing the way the goo bounced up and down as he stood right over it.

Soon, you were standing right beside him. “You’re right. That’s…”

“...unusual?” he offered.

“Yeah, you could say that,” you began, “considering we’re FOUR INCHES TALL!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been messing with that stuff,” Venkman shrugged, slowly walking away from tupperware to the edge of the table.

Your eyes widened as he got closer to the ledge. “Venkman! Be careful!” 

“Come on, I’m not gonna… fall…”

In a rare moment, Venkman was speechless. The drop to the floor looked impossibly long – longer than the Grand Canyon, or the view from the top of the Empire State Building. No, this was a longer drop than he had ever experienced in his life.

“That’s… pretty far,” he confessed, voice lacking his characteristic wit. Also at a loss for words as you stared straight down, you simply nodded. 

“God, that guy was such a hack, wasn’t he?”

Your eyes blew wide. No, they couldn’t be back so soon…

“I hate reporters. Always making me feel like I’m doing something illegal.” Egon snickered. “Or that I got caught.”

You were frozen. This was the absolute worst-case scenario. Not only were you stuck with Venkman down here, but now you had to deal with two scientists you had only looked up to figuratively. They had to see how you had failed.

“RAY! SPENGLER! DOWN HERE!” 

You cringed. It felt so counterintuitive to yell, but Venkman wanted this fixed and fixed fast.

He began waving his arms around frantically. “STANZ! SPENGLER!”

The giant Ghostbusters paused. “Do you hear something, Ray?”

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

“It sounds like it’s–”

“–coming from the table,” they said in unison. It didn’t take long for their eyes to find you.

“Oh… my…” Ray couldn’t even finish his sentence. He took cautious steps forward, slowly leaning down as he did so. You shrunk back.

“Venkman? Del? What–what happened?”

The words got caught in your throat as his gigantic face settled in front of you. He was so unbelievably huge, and his size filled you with a sense of unavoidable dread.

“Oh, thank god,” Venkman sighed. “Look, you guys have to bail us out. I’m positive that this slime you guys were messing with did this to us.” 

Egon and Ray were beside themselves. The square-cube law didn’t allow for this! How could this have happened? Well, they supposed, anything can happen when ghosts are involved.

“Uh… guys? You can see us, right?” 

You and Venkman exchanged an unnerved glance that said I’m pretty freaked out that they keep staring.

Cautiously, Egon stuck his finger out and was halfway to poking Venkman before his face twisted into anger and he sidestepped. “Spengler!” he cried. “What the hell do you think you’re doing!”

Egon pulled his finger back, unfazed by Venkman’s annoyance. “Oh, wow. It’s real, Ray.”

“This… this is incredible. Simply incredible!” Ray’s booming voice marveled. You winced at the volume. “I mean, this is a game-changer! Slime that not only responds to human emotions, but can alter their physical body in ways we – we didn’t even think were possible! I can’t believe this, I…”

Ray trailed off when he finally locked eyes with your trembling form. Sure, he was excited – he knew you understood that – but what he didn’t understand was just how scary this must be for you. To suddenly have your autonomy taken away from you… being loomed over and stared at by beings fifty times your size… it had to be no less than utterly overwhelming.

Venkman rolled his eyes. “You two can ogle at us later, after you find a way to fix this.”

“Sorry, Peter, you’re going to have to speak up,” Egon said, leaning in closer. Your eyes grew wider than you thought was possible, and one shaky step backwards to get away from his pinning gaze sent you tumbling to the ground. 

“Egon!” Ray gasped, pushing his friend back. “Del, are you alright?”

Sheepishly, you nodded. 

“Sorry, Del,” Egon said, concern all over his face. “I suppose I’m going to have to make a few adjustments to the way we interact.”

“Gee, you think?!” Venkman cried in exasperation. “We’re tiny, you’re huge. There, I think that settles it!”

“Calm down, Peter,” Egon chided with the tone of a concerned father. “Look, we’re going to have to run a few tests to see how—”

“No!” you piped up, surprising everyone, including yourself. You cleared your throat as your eyes darted from Ghostbuster to Ghostbuster. “I mean… you guys are gonna have to give us a little bit to, you know… process all of this.” You eyed Venkman. “Back me up here…”

Peter shrugged. “Yeah, what Del said.”

You groaned. “Thanks for the help.”

“Del’s right,” Ray agreed, turning to Egon. “Right now, we can just… ask them how they feel. Besides, we have to re-calibrate all of our equipment and cancel all our appointments until we can get this sorted out.”

After a moment of thinking, Egon nodded. Even though he still thought the best way to solve this was to run as many tests as possible, he understood the need for space.

In a shaking voice, you recounted the events leading up to the shrinking and how you felt now – overall normal, just overwhelmed and a little cold.

“Well, that makes complete sense. Your bodies are so small that the amount of heat you lose proportional to your height is faster than you can generate.” 

“Oh, great, so we’ll freeze to death?”

Ray hesitated. “Well… all science points to yes, but you told me you feel completely normal.”

“So far,” Venkman grumbled.

“And nothing is darker?”

You both shook your heads.

“Fascinating. It was always theorized that the smaller you get, the less light your eyes would be able to process, therefore the world would appear darker.”

“I mean… I guess it’s darker,” you admitted. “But not by much.”

“Incredible. So basically, everything we’ve ever posited would happen if humans were shrunk… isn’t happening to you at all. I’m surprised we can even hear you talking, to be honest.”

The longer this Q&A went on, though, the more tired you grew, and Ray noticed. Truthfully, he always had a soft spot for you, which is why he lobbied heavily to bring you on board in the first place. You were the top of your class at NYU in biochemistry, not to mention you were passionate about helping others in any way you could. He could barely stand watching you cower away from the world you loved and have dedicated your life to understanding. 

“Guys?” Winston’s voice rang from the back of the room, finally back from sorting out the schedule. He wasn’t going to be happy that all his hard work was about to go to waste. “Who are we… talking… to.”

As soon as he joined the fray, it became too much for you. “I… I… I can’t do this,” you sniffed, the first tear finally breaking free. “I – this is crazy.”

“Del? Are you okay?” Ray asked, sorrow written all over his face. A rather unfamiliar feeling suddenly washed over him – he wanted to scoop you up, hold you close and reassure you that everything would be alright.

“They don’t look okay,” Winston replied, his wide eyes fixated on you.

It was like the worst kind of judgment day you could imagine; like you were in trouble at school and everyone was in on it, or being scolded by your parents all over again. Three people you considered to be your family were now unfathomably large, and right now, there was no end in sight. Were you going to have to look up at them forever? Have them cart you around wherever you wanted to go? How were you going to shower?

“Del–” Egon started, but it was too late. Now furiously wiping away tears, you ran toward what you perceived to be an amorphous blob of technology behind you and disappeared around the back of what was, ironically, a microscope.

You instantly dropped to the ground, folding your knees into your chest and tucking them in tight. Right now, you wanted nothing more than to be left alone for the next several hours.

You wouldn’t even get a few minutes.

“You know, we’re going to need them if we ever want to get back to normal.”

You wiped your eyes and sniffed. “I don’t really want to talk right now, Venkman.”

Instead of the usual quick-witted comeback, Venkman took a seat next to you, stretching out his legs, as if that would make him taller again. There was a rare comfortable silence between you.

“Did you know I got fired from Columbia?” he said suddenly, unprompted. 

You looked at him in surprise. “Uhm – no. No, I didn’t, actually.”

“It was a while ago. Heck, it’s what inspired us to start the Ghostbusters in the first place.”

You sniffed a laugh. “I didn’t even know you worked at Columbia.”

“What, is that so hard to imagine?”

“...Yes. Yes it is. What were you, a professor of laziness?”

“If ‘laziness’ gets you PhDs in parapsychology and psychology, then, yes.”

At that, you had to laugh. “I think you’re making that up.”

Venkman feigned offense. “Ask Ray and Egon! They wouldn’t lie to you.”

“Maybe if they weren’t a hundred feet tall and could crush me in an instant, I would.”

You hadn’t meant to let that slip, but you also didn’t regret saying it.

Venkman sighed, but it wasn’t out of annoyance. It was out of… concern? 

“Look, kid.” That was the first time he had ever called you that. “This is weird as all hell, don’t think I don’t agree with you on that. All I’m saying is… all of us, we’ve fucked up before. Massively. This… this isn’t your fault, you know, right?”

“Are you trying to make me feel better?”

“Is it working?”

You wanted to say no, to keep snapping at him and telegraphing just how awful he usually made you feel. But right now… you weren’t feeling that. Maybe you just didn’t have the energy. He was probably just trying to cheer you up out of sheer necessity.

“Maybe,” you said. “Maybe not.”

Venkman shook his head. “You’re one impossible kid to please, you know that?”

Somehow, that response didn’t make your insides boil up with anger. Instead, you smiled.

“Should… should we check on them?” Egon asked, still staring straight at the microscope. 

Winston shook his head. “Give ‘em time.”

Sure enough, a few moments later, you and Venkman emerged from your hiding spot. Venkman didn’t seem to have a problem staring up at his longtime friends, but for you, it was still too difficult and too weird. You kept your eyes trained in front of you, nervously wringing your hands together.

Venkman clapped his hands. “So! You guys come up with a brilliant plan to get us back to normal yet?”

Ray, Egon and Winston exchanged glances. 

Ray ventured to speak first. “Well… truthfully…”

“We have no idea how long it would take,” Egon interrupted. “Or if we even can do it.”

“Nope, I won’t have any of that quitter talk,” Venkman said a little too quickly. “Can’t you see how much that would upset Del?”

All eyes fell on you. You squeezed your hand harder.

“Venkman’s right,” Ray declared. “We have to try everything we can. Exhaust every avenue! We won’t stop until you two are back to normal.”

“...I can help,” you said meekly, almost too quietly to hear. “I mean, I was studying that stuff for days, and I’m the one it zapped. I should be able to–”

“–no, Del, you can’t,” Ray said suddenly. At that, you finally mustered up the courage to look at him. He looked stressed. “It’s too dangerous, and you’re too small. What if you get hurt?”

You felt your face get hot. “Then I’ll deal with it! I–”

“I think we all need a break,” Winston stated in that firm, authoritative voice of his. When the other Ghostbusters failed to think straight, he was always there to pick them up. “Maybe we can deal with this in the morning, alright?”

Everyone nodded in unison. Winston was usually right about these kinds of things, and he knew it.

“Well, I’m goin’ home and getting some rest. Maybe now that Venkman’s so small, we won’t have to hear his yapping all day.”

Peter frowned. “Ha ha.”

Suddenly, you heard a soft voice right next to you. “Hey,” Winston practically whispered, marveling at just how small you were. He wanted to be comforting, but truthfully, he didn’t know how much words would help. “Hang in there, alright? You just let me know if you need a break from these yahoos.”

The way you gaped back at Winston, so impossibly large when situated right next to you, he wasn’t surprised that all you gave him in response was a nod. The small smile he gave you was reassuring, but it was hard to keep your breath from hitching when he stretched back up to his full height and left the room. 

That left the four of you.

“If you three don’t mind, I need to go over Del’s lab notes and start modifying our equipment,” Egon said, eyeing the array of instruments at the corner table. “Or, Venkman, perhaps you’d like to come with me–”

Venkman was quick to refuse. “Nope, nooooope, nuh-uh. I’m not climbing into anyone’s sweaty hand. Just… bring me food and a blanket, I’ll make do on the table.”

Egon couldn’t suppress his smile at how adorable tiny Venkman was. “Alright, camper.”

Venkman furrowed his brow. “Don’t smile! This is not amusing!”

“Maybe not for you,” Egon deadpanned, laughing at the death stare Venkman gave him as he walked away. You don’t think you would get used to the feeling of watching your friends walk around a giant room, taking mere seconds to cover ground that would have taken you forever.

You finally noticed that Ray was eyeing you, but with a different look. Was he… nervous? 

“Del…” he started, unsure of how to ask this. “Why don’t you – um, if you don’t mind–”

“Oh, this is embarrassing,” Venkman muttered.

Instead of bothering to finish his unsalvageable sentence, he sucked in a breath and put his hand, palm-up, down onto the table a few inches from where you stood. You gulped and stepped back, not prepared for just how massive it was going to look.

“Why don’t you come with me and get some supplies for you and Venkman?” he finally asked. “Nobody knows what you two need more right now than you.”

Every one of your basic instincts told you not to get on his hand; no, don’t even go near it. He won’t even be able to feel you in his palm. He would forget that you’re there, close his hand, tip it down, crush you, drop you…

But this was Ray. The guy who believed in you from the very start, who you had connected with almost instantly. Whether you liked it or not, you had to rely on him now – hell, you had to rely on all of them. You were a team, after all. A famous, ghost-hunting, rag-tag team that you spent every waking hour with… and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

To Venkman’s surprise, it only took you a few moments of deliberation before deciding to climb onto the hand. You hoisted yourself up like you were situating yourself on a boat – more like a lifeboat, in this scenario. You didn’t really know how to sit, or what would be more comfortable, but you supposed you had all the time in the world to figure it out.

Above you, Ray smiled. He wanted nothing more than to fix you, but damn it if you weren’t absolutely adorable at four inches tall.

“Ready?” he asked, consciously keeping his voice low.

You took a deep breath. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

“Enjoy the ride!” Venkman called out, waving to you as you were lifted into the air.

“Try not to get jealous!” you grinned back, adrenaline coursing through you. It was the first time you felt like joking all day.

“Trust me, I’m good down here,” Venkman said, before muttering to himself, “for now.”

Ray beamed down at you, and you gave him a wary smile back. This was uncharted territory for any human in recorded history, but you had the Ghostbusters. You were going to be okay.

[gyubnz]

#letenhypenrest

as of late 2023, enhypen has been releasing albums, going on world tour, and promoting their comebacks endlessly. the members are all exhausted and could fall asleep one night and not wake up the next morning, if they even have time to sleep properly. they could drop dead one day, at any time, because of how much they are overworked. there are rumors that jay, jake, and jungwon hinted at another comeback this month, which is only two months after their previous comeback, romance : untold, which, let me remind you, is a full-length album.

jake could barely keep his eyes open at an event, heeseung was so exhausted that he couldn't dance properly at a performance, ni-ki fainted multiple times, jay has a knee injury and is now taking a break because he has the flu, and sunghoon has a cold. this, and so much more, has all happened in less than the span of eight months. other k-pop groups are doing perfectly fine without performing back to back, every single day, so why is it any different with enhypen? enhypen aren't money-making machines; they're people too and they need rest, just like everyone else.

this barely scratches the surface of how overworked enhypen is. if you want to know more, feel free to dig deeper into the topic yourself on enhypen's weverse, x, and other social forums. here are some posts containing more information about the topic: 1. https://www.tumblr.com/karinasbaby/759890666897719296/havent-seen-lots-of-awareness-brought-to-this-in?source=share 2. https://www.tumblr.com/p4ranormaluv/759987566597554176/letenhypenrest?source=share

please spread awareness by writing #letenhypenrest on all your socials. even if you think it doesn't make a difference, i promise you, it does. spread the word; all of your actions can impact the world. you aren't powerless.

[meruz]

another ask post

i mean i also read it because a friend whos rly into queer SFF fiction circles recced it but she did kinda lead with "the writer used to write hs fanfic...tasmyn..taz...?" to which i replied

of COURSE I read the locked tomb because i heard taz had written a book. of course. ill consume most any media made by a beloved homestuck bnf. thats also why i played undertale. and read like..snotgirl. and idk... watched the new dub of neon genesis evangelion.

if u made homestuck fanwork 10 years ago and havent even made it since chances are I still remember and I love you for it.

sdlkfhsg its funny you sensed that because that drawing did in fact start kinda more........ well, I'd be lying if I said my hands never wrought a drawing toeing over the pg-13 line LOL...

NOT to say i have a secret stash of porn or anything. in general im more interested in the implication of sexuality or mature themes over any explicit depiction. like everything i draw is so softcore itd almost feel silly to make a nsfw acc for anything.

but im not rly jumping to post anything on main either bc i get the sense i have a lot of kids in my social media following. it varies from site to site and fandom to fandom but the themes in my work often circle around childhood, coming of age etc and in general i like stories about kids so the fandoms i draw for have a lot of kids in them. even stuff like IT (stephen king) which is about kids but isn't necessarily for kids.. there were a lot of kids in that fandom lol.

actually thats why ive been censoring swears in comics lately because the tmnt fandom comes across to me as a little young...IDK I've had MULTIPLE people ask me what "sodomize" means because of the joke in this post and I'm like... I Cannot be the one to explain this to you. you have to look it up on your own klfsdhsdg like i wouldn't be doing this if i were doing a comic for mgs or even homestuck wherein the characters textually swear constantly LOL but sometimes u gotta change tacks depending on the faces u see in the crowd yknow.

i HAVE been thinking abt drawing nsfw of sunspot/richard rider/kobak from x-men red just because that comic seemed to be really asking for it. who knows.. if the need rly arises maybe my separate account policy will change.

its rly more a matter of the fact that i havent read/watched much of any other iterations... im sure id like most lol. I like most things related to my interests regardless of quality. i rly like the marvel ultimate alliance games for instance. sometimes seeing my fave guy is enough he doesnt have to be well written LOL. i dont exactly have a wealth of free time tho thats the real impediment.

i did watch the 2007 movie on new years eve and found it quite charming overall. and i have read about 30-40 issues between the mirage and idw comics. still feels like im barely scratching the surface but i liked em. i rly want to read all the sophie campbell stuff bc i think her work is interesting. jason aaron will be a mixed bag i think lmao. i say as the worlds biggest Wolverine and the X-Men (2011) fan.

hmm this is kinda hard bc i feel like i naturally draw very loose and the hard part for me is tightening it up. maybe some suggestions tho...

1) hand excercises. i think its easy to forget this when many artists sit in front of the computer all day but drawing is a physical activity u do with ur actual...bodys...muscles lol. if u feel urself tightening up it might help to strech (any google search for "artist hand excercises" should yield good results) or do a page of loose practice strokes like..big circles. long lines. scribbles. that kinda thing. whatever feels good for ur hand. this is also just good to do as a general warm up before u sit down for any drawing sesh.

2) draw further away from the canvas. as a general rule...when ur painting traditionally you do the big strokes with your whole arm outstreched and a long handled brush. and when you do the details its smaller wrist movements and a shorter handled brush. so it might help to take a step back or push back from ur chair a little.. or hold ur tablet a little further away. and hold your pen further away from the nib.

3) change mediums / brush types. some brushes and mediums are more suited to loose sketching and some more inclined towards detail work. so changing ur tool could help. also! i personally have this problem where sometimes if im using a brush i feel really familiar with the pressure to make a "good" "finished" "perfect" drawing is greater... if i want to force myself to loosen up ill switch to a tool i dont use as often so it feels like the pressure is off. a lot of times for me this is switching from digital to traditional. but sometimes its switching from a small pen to a big marker. or a smooth pen to a textured one. or a nice brush to a shitty dried up marker.

but also every body is different so i dont think these tips will work for everyone. u should listen to what ur body and mind tell u and how drawing feels to you

bro just sign up and set it up i dont think theres much to it... i dont rly think too much abt my itch.io store because its digital goods so u just upload the file and let it do its thing. no distribution work needed on ur part. youll notice i barely even advertise my itch unless i have smth new on there lol.. its easy. but good luck!!!

idk if im the best person to ask this im more a comic fan than i am a comic professional... a comic hobbist.

well. scott mcclouds understanding comics and making comics are good books on the craft. i think i had to buy them for a class in art school once.

other than that idk just keep at it. comics are really laborious i think for a lot of people the hardest part is sitting down and doing it.

i think a lot of people have a very instinctive understanding of how to read comics and what they look like so whatever you think seems like good way to tell the story you have in mind, its probably right. if u get stuck, study comics that have done something similar. most people in comics are relatively self taught and actually it can be problematic bc you can tell when a lot of comic artists are all copying the same like 5 old white guys LMAO. but on the flip side if you make sure to reference and study broadly your comics will almost assuredly feel unique.

sorry im responding to this anyways. this is just a really nice ask. i like when people reference my older work bc i feel like sometimes theyre subtly implying it wasnt very good LMAOOO. but its true! at least compared to the work i make now ^^ and the fact that im still making art is whats keeping me from being embarassed abt how much of my old art just floats around online lmao im never ashamed to be growing and learning. isnt that a nice thought <3

[escapewriter]

Hey There Delilah

pairing : seungkwan x reader

synopsis : if only you got his address right, maybe he wouldn’t have been that salty.

genre : fluff, humor, slight angst

word count : 3.3k

warnings : none

posted : 01/16/21

a/n : IM SO SORRY THAT I HAVENT UPDATED THIS FOR A MONTH. BUT I GOT INSPO BECAUSE HIS BIRTHDAY WAS COMING UP SO HAPPY SEUNGKWAN DAY!!!!

TAGLIST : @vibecheckvernon @beomiebear5 @lightoflife @skylions-den @noniesgirl

won’t let me tag : @pandora1834

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pieces of love masterlist // playlist // main masterlist

“Do you have to leave so soon?” Seunkwan pouted as he held your hand and rolled your luggage in the other. “I mean, you have time to stay a little longer.” He looked down at your intertwined fingers, slightly swinging it.

“You’re telling me this now? If you told me earlier, I could have gone later but I already got my ticket and we’re literally standing in the middle of the airport.” His mouth fell open as you giggled, releasing his hand to cup his face in your palms. “Don’t worry, Kwan, I’ll be back before you know it. And remember our deal, okay? Only letters.”

He sighed but repeated your words in a defeated tone, “Only letters.”

//

“Man, fuck these letters.” Seungkwan groaned in annoyance as he crumpled the 5th piece of paper into a ball and threw it into the trash bin. Jun looked up from his phone where he was seated on the couch, a concerned, yet amused, look in his eyes.

“What’s wrong? Can’t spell their name right?” Laughing at his own joke, he didn’t notice his friend swiftly turn in his chair to glare at him, shutting him up with a cough. He cleared his throat and nervously sat up straight, “Seriously, what’s wrong? Don’t know how to spell something or what?”

“No that's not the problem, and even if it was, I wouldn’t be asking you how to spell something.” Seungkwan turned back to his desk, resting his head on the wooden table. “I haven’t gotten a letter in a month. Do you think something’s wrong?” Jun hummed again, listening as he scrolled mindlessly on his phone.

“I don’t think you did anything wrong, they’re probably just busy. I mean, New York is a busy place and they gotta pay attention to some things, I guess.” Seungkwan turned around again, looking at the coffee table Jun had his feet propped up on.

“I don’t think I did anything wrong. I’m saying, maybe something is wrong.”

Jun looked up, eyes staring at Seungkwan’s furrowed eyebrows, “Wouldn’t their family tell you though? I honestly don’t think it’s that big of a deal. Just write the letter and ask them what’s wrong and if they don’t reply, then... there's your answer.”

“Aren’t you such great help.”

//

Seungkwan slammed the pen on the desk, finally finished writing the letter to you. He doesn’t really know why you stopped sending letters; it was usually a one to two week delay. Nevermind that, Seungkwan is sure that after you get this letter, you will definitely reply to him.

“Jun, can you read this for me? See if it sounds good?” He turned to the male who was eating on the small table, holding out the letter for him to take. Reaching over, Jun retrieved the letter from Seungkwan’s grasp, scanning the neat handwriting before reading:

Hey there,

How are you? Are the people treating you nice there?I sure hope they are because you’re too kind for this world. What’s it like living there so far? I’m sorry for all these questions, I’m just curious because ya know, it's New York City!

So… it’s been a while since I’ve gotten a letter from you, but maybe you’ve been busy. I mean, this internship, it’s a big deal so I wouldn’t want you to worry about sending letters all the time. Plus it probably keeps you occupied so don’t worry about anything, I’m just glad you’re happy doing what you love.

Anyway, uh, I heard back from Vernon. He said that he can show you around since he’s in town visiting with his mom. I don’t know if you’ll get this in time, but maybe he’ll contact you about it!

I really miss you. I know it was such terrible timing for me to have confessed. Just two weeks before you had to leave. Ah I wish I could’ve done it sooner. Anyway, I hope you’re doing well. Don’t overwork yourself and stay safe, okay?

Remember, time square could never shine as bright as you. I know it’s cheesy but I’ll always say it because that was my best pick up line ever. Okay, now get back to work! I’ll see you soon! I’m counting down the days!

From, Seungkwan

Jun put down his arm that was holding the letter and looked at Seungkwan who was munching away the food on his plate, “‘Time square could never shine as bright as you?’ MAN, and I thought Mingyu was the cheesy one in our group.”

Glaring at the elder, he snatched the letter from his hand, muttering something under his breath. “It’s from a song. An inside joke you wouldn’t understand.”

Jun took a sip of his soda, sighing as he set the can on a coaster, “Well, whatever it is, cross your fingers in hopes that they mail you back,” He stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans, “I’ll take my leave, gotta go cleanse my apartment.”

Seungkwan nodded, looking at the letter in his hands. Of all the things, it had to be letters.

//

“Seungkwan, get up.” He mumbled in his sleep, trying to shoo away the intruder that was waking him up. “Seungkwan, have you gotten mail from them yet?” He groaned again, not aware of his surroundings as he rolled over, arm hitting a hard surface beside him. “Man, you really are a pain. Anyway, I have a letter for you.” Seungkwan shot up, squinting at Jun who towered over him in his bed.

“You have a what for me? I’ve been waiting for almost three weeks for one, did one finally come in?” Jun’s eyes widened, not realizing sooner that he didn’t receive a letter from you.

“Oh, uh, you see, um, I was just… kidding.” Seungkwan narrowed his eyes before making a frown and crashing back head first into his pillows. “Seungkwan, come on man. The letter probably got lost in the mail or something. You never know.”

Sitting up, he stared at what’s ahead of him; a bookshelf. The shelf had various books, photo albums, picture frames, etc. Mainly, it had a picture of the two of you hanging out the day he finally confessed — just two weeks before you had to leave. He doesn’t remember that night, though he wished he did after staring at the photo for so long now.

“Seungkwan! What are you looking at?” Jun leaned over, trying to take a glance at what his friend was eyeing, though it appears it is something that won’t make him feel any better. “Okay, enough is enough. You helped me during my break up, so I’m gonna help you through this letter drought, okay? Okay. Now, up you go!” Jun lifted the man from his bed, dragging him to the middle of his bedroom before plopping him down on the rug. “You're not gonna help me out Seungkwan? Come on, please.”

“What if they met someone,” Jun thought for a moment, hoping what Seungkwan said didn’t turn out to be true. He had to stay positive and make sure his friend does too.

“Hey, don’t think like that, okay? Now get up and wash up, we’re going to get food.” Seungkwan sighed, finally deciding to listen to his friend.

//

“Jun, I know you meant to go out to get food, but I didn’t think that I would pay for it AND we eat it at my place.”

“It’s the thought that counts, and thank you for paying. The food? Muah.”

Seungkwan rolled his eyes and put a piece of meat into his mouth, staring at the desk that was against the wall. He eyed the papers, pens, and pencils; a wave of sadness crashing over him. He couldn’t help but think that you actually had moved on. All the doubts he had in the beginning when you left resurfaced as he thought that maybe you just used him for those last two weeks you had spent with him. But why would you do something like that? It didn’t make any sense, but maybe Seungkwan doesn’t really know you.

“Hey, Seungkwan what’s the date today?”

“Not sure, why?”

Jun hummed, noticing that Seungkwan hasn’t been keeping track of the days recently, so he decided to keep this valuable information to himself, “No reason, just wasn’t sure.”

//

Seungkwan sat at his desk, thinking about how he should start the next letter to write. He used to write every week to you, but now he hasn’t written to you for over a month. He swirled the pen in his hand, attempting to gather words to form a sentence in his head. Finally, that imaginary lightbulb lit up, his eyes sparkling with ideas.

Hey there,

How’s New York City treating you? Have you taken care of yourself? Eating all your supplements?

Scratching his head, he scribbled on the paper and decided to use this as a rough draft and to rewrite it later.

How’s New York City treating you? Have you taken care of yourself? Eating all your supplements?

I don’t know what’s going on, but I hope you’re safe over there. It’s getting more and more difficult for me to go so long without seeing you and hearing your voice. I miss you.

He thought maybe it was too cheesy, or maybe he was so in love he couldn’t control it. Nope it was too cheesy.

I don’t know what’s going on, but I hope you’re safe over there. It’s getting more and more difficult for me to go so long without seeing you and hearing your voice. I miss you.

Taking a small sip of his coffee, Seungkwan closed his eyes, thinking about the situation he was in. He used to be so good at saying all the right words in his letters but now he couldn’t even find anything to say. He doesn’t even know if you're reading them or not. That hurt his pride a bit because of how much time and dedication he spent to write and think these out to send to you, only to not get a letter in almost two months. That’s the crazy thing about love; one would do anything for the person they love.

Snapping his eyes open, he checked the time only to find that it was no use because the clock was broken. The ticking of it irritated him and it always felt like it was getting slower and slower.

Focusing on the paper in front of him, he decided that if you weren’t going to send any letter, then he wasn’t going to either. It sounded like a great idea, but it was also bad at the same time. He didn’t know why, but he chose to ignore the bad part.

//

Jun could sense that Seungkwan was feeling a bit better than usual, but that's what freaked him out the most. Seungkwan hasn’t been this active ever since he got his first letter from you, so he guesses that his friend received a letter. Jun wanted to ask, but the fear of the thought not being true made him hesitate and not ask at all. He didn’t want to see his friend in despair again. After all, you are coming home in a few hours.

Seungkwan hasn’t felt like he has right now since a few months ago. It could be the weather, the feeling of the air, the food, anything. He just knows that today is a good day.

“Jun, what are we gonna do today? I’m feeling great so we should go out.” Jun pursed his lips as Seungkwan looked at his friend, waiting for an answer. Jun looked up in thought, but his mind just wandered back to his bed or the couch because he was feeling a lazy day.

“I don’t know, I’m not really in the mood to… go out.”

“Why? Are you feeling okay?” Seungkwan raised his hand to touch Jun’s forehead, only for Jun to smack it away.

“I feel fine, I’m just a bit lazy is all.” Jun thought to himself, thinking about how you’d for sure want to see Seungkwan and to talk to him about everything. Well, that's what he thinks and hopes. “Can we stay here for a bit and then head out?”

Plopping down next to him, Seungkwan turned on the TV, clicking through the channels before keeping it on one show. “Let me know when you want to leave.”

//

Seungkwan soon fell asleep on the couch, laying on his right side. Jun looked at him and then to the clock. He set a reminder on his phone before you left on when you would come back and what time.

It was currently 3:10pm and on his phone, it says you arrived at 1 o’clock in the afternoon. The airport is quite away and you probably are feeling tired after the plane ride, but Jun can’t help to look back every time he hears a car go by, hoping that it’s you to see Seungkwan.

He sighed, glancing at his sleeping friend before getting up and placing a blanket over him. He’s had it rough for the past couple of months, the thoughts of his brain eating him alive. Oh how he knew the feeling all too well.

Hearing a car door shut, Jun peeked outside, seeing you approach the house. Quickly and quietly, he opened the front door and closed it, meeting you halfway.

When you saw him, you immediately smiled, “Jun!” He raised his hand up to his lips, shushing you.

He began to whisper, “Where the hell have you been?” You eyed him weirdly, but shrugging as it was only Jun in front of you. “Do you know how much pain Seungkwan was in? He’s been waiting so long for you to reply.”

You were confused, “What do you mean? I was the one waiting for him to reply back to me. I came here to see what was wrong.” Jun sighed before signaling you to Seungkwan’s home.

“You go in. He’s asleep on the couch and will probably wake up hungry.” He gave you a soft pat on the head, “Glad to have you back, now I’m gonna go. Also, he’ll probably get mad, so don’t mention me.” You giggled before giving him a small hug.

“Thanks Jun.”

//

Seungkwan groaned, sitting up as he looked around the room, trying to spot Jun. Finding him nowhere, he sighed thinking about how he never went out. Turning to put his feet down, he lifted his arms to stretch, a yawn escaping past his lips. Mid yawn, he sees you at the doorway from the kitchen with a tray. He blinked a few times, not sure if you were really there or if it was just Jun. He rubbed his eyes as you came closer and set the tray onto the coffee table.

“About time you woke up, I’ve been here for an hour.” Seungkwan said nothing, his mind still thinking that this was all just a hallucination. He glazed over at the clock on the desk and saw that it was almost 4:30pm.

He heard you clear your throat, his mind now processing that you were indeed actually there with him in the same room. You began to walk around the small table, “I made your favorite soup,” Sitting down next to him, you looked into his wide eyes, “Why are you so surprised? I should be the surprised one here.”

Blinking a few times, he finally said your name. Lifting up his hand, he caressed your cheek lovingly as you smiled bitterly. But then he remembered how you never responded to him, and how you had the audacity to come into his home as if nothing was wrong.

He narrowed his eyes, taking his hand away from your face before standing up abruptly, “Why didn’t you mail me back?” Your eyebrows shot up and so did your legs, but wanting to one up him, you stood on the couch.

“I could ask you the same thing, Seungkwan! I haven’t received a single letter from you.” A shocked look flashed over his features as he looked up at you.

“What do you mean ‘haven’t received’ a single letter? I sent a few asking you why you didn’t respond. But what did I get? N. O. T. H. I. N. G.” You glared at him, not believing the words you were hearing. You sent so many letters with no information as to why he didn’t respond back to you.

“Really Seungkwan? You want to play victim?”

“Victim? I am the victim!” You scoffed, getting off the couch and walked around the table to put some distance between the two of you. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. You’re accusing me of not responding when I did.” You rubbed your temples, pacing in front of him as you took small glances at his messy desk filled with crumpled papers. You walked over, picking up a ball and unfolded it, reading what he wrote before tossing it aside.

“I told you I wrote. And I did stop, I admit, but that was only because you never responded. I did write to you.” You looked at him, trying to think about what went wrong before an idea popped in your head.

“Seungkwan, what was the last letter you got from me?” He looked around his desk, scanning the messy area before pointing to the only neat pile. You picked up the letters, reading each date and word on the envelopes. However, you immediately knew what the mistake was.

You sighed and closed your eyes, biting your lower lip in frustration. Turning to Seungkwan who was sitting on the couch and eating the food you prepared, you debated if you wanted to hurt your pride by telling him what you did wrong.

He looked at where you were standing with the letters in your hands, as clear sadness in his eyes. You thought about the pain you may have caused him because of one stupid mistake. If only you got the address right.

“Okay Seungkwan, I know what happened, but hear me out.” His eyes narrowed, but he motioned you to continue, “So, when we write letters to each other, we put our address on it, right?” Nodding his head, he took a sip of the warm soup, “Well, the people I was working with moved me to a different department which relocated me to a different city which was far from my apartment.”

You watched his eyes, seeing the expression that tells you he knew nothing about it, “Yeah, you knew nothing because in the letter that I wrote to you, I put the wrong address. I put a 5 instead of a 6.” You looked down, too ashamed to face him and his hard eyes. Seungkwan was surprised, he didn’t know how to process the information, so all he did was laugh.

“I can’t believe how stupid you are.” You let out a soft laugh, hiding your face in the letters. “But I have a question still,” He tried to look at your face, but couldn’t see anything except your nodding, “If we wrote our address, why didn’t you just look at my old letters?”

Placing the letters on the table, you let out a loud groan, softly stomping over to the couch and sitting right next to him. Leaning against his shoulder, you sighed, “Like you said, I can’t believe how stupid I am.”

Seungkwan laughed, moving his arm to wrap around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his torso, catching his familiar scent that you missed so much.

“Seungkwan?” He hummed, loving the feeling of having you in his arms again, “I’m sorry I got your address wrong.” He smiled, rubbing your back as a soothing gesture.

“I know. But just remember I’m never letting you live this down.”

[fresafresitawrites]

hemera: goddess of the day

my second vignette in my creative writing class! posting this here so everyone can have fun reading and also cuz i havent posted anything in a while. it’s not that long, so if u can read thatd be so appreciated !!! inspirations: a party i went to with my art history friends and anne carson’s eros the bittersweet 

rest of the vignette is under the read more

I waited outside Hemera’s apartment building, wiping my shoes on the doormat and holding the champagne bottle she asked me to get. She was still 20 until next March and I turned 21 back in June, so for the next few months this would be my job.

The October air was crisp and sharp. The occasional gust of wind felt like needles on my skin. I’m glad that before heading to Hemera’s, my mom convinced me to wear the Sherpa-lined Levi’s jacket she bought me at a Black Friday sale last year—- 70% off.

 The door swung open.

“Andrew!” Hemera’s sudden embrace knocked me back a little. The rollers in her hair scratched the surface of my cheeks when she hugged me, and I was hit with the scent of coconut milk shampoo. A tropical wave juxtaposed with the autumn breeze.

“Hey, is no one else here yet?”

She didn’t let go of me. She hadn’t seen me in a while ever since she started a new job at an Italian restaurant near Union Square, and I’ve been working late-shifts at the bookstore since the holidays were around the corner. “Oh, here.” I gave the liquor store bag.

“You got it!” I closed the door behind me as I entered the lobby. “They use this brand at work, so I wanted to try it.” Her black nails tapped against the green bottle before handing it back to me. “And no, I actually told them to come at seven because I know if I asked you to come early you wouldn’t have done it.”

“Oh really?” I wasn’t actually surprised but I wasn’t going to argue with her either. She’s probably right anyway. I followed her up the three flights of stairs and into her studio, hanging my coat behind the door. She went back to unraveling her curls in front of the bathroom mirror. I leaned against the doorway. Her sink was covered in hair and make-up products.

“You would’ve said, vos! Jou’re gonna make me clean your room while jou do jour make-up again.” She exaggerated my accent. I’ve been a New Yorker for eleven years, but Argentina will always ring in my voice. “Anyway, can you clean you room? I have to brush out my hair.”

“No.” I started peeling off the foil of the bottle.

She turned around, snatching the bottle away from me.

“Not until everyone’s here!”

“All right, whatever.”

I was going to help her straighten the place out anyway. Hemera lived in a studio apartment that she moved into just last year, despite her mom’s disapproval. On the night of her move-in day, we lay down on the hardwood-- since she hadn’t gotten her couch yet-- and shared a bag of Doritos.

“Do you think she’ll be okay? All she has is the cat now.” She meant her mom. “Maybe things should be like they were back in like, the old times. She always talks about how full the house back in Mexico used to be, even my great-grandmother lived there. Three generations! With the kids and everything. There was so much noise… and now it’s just Pepino.” She rolled over to face me. “I miss my kitty already!”   

Hemera sometimes had this way of speaking where nostalgia tinted her voice with memories that weren’t hers. I could name more people in her family than my own.

The entire apartment was the size of my mom’s bedroom. The hardwood creaked with every other step, the pipes under the kitchen sink moaned like ghosts, and the walls were covered with floral wallpaper tearing at the edges, but Hemera treated her apartment as if everything was made of gold. I would too, honestly.

I cleared up the wooden coffee table by removing piles of open mail—mostly bills and Target coupons—printed recipes, and scripts from her theater classes. I didn’t know what else to do with them, so I just hid everything under her pull-out couch. On the kitchen counter, she had those trays of assorted cheeses and meats—to be fancy for her college friends. I rummaged through the cabinets and found her supply of Hot Cheetos to snack on while I reheated the pasta on the stove she made for the guests.

“Okay, how do I look?”

I followed her voice. Her hair was curled up in short rings, like black garden roses, and her eyes were dusted with purple and black eyeshadow. Or eyeliner, I didn’t know, but the glitter illuminated her tan skin. She was dressed in her signature all-black style. In a lace, spidery dress that hugged her curves and ended at her thighs. She sparkled under the dim lighting of her apartment, like a crystal in a cave. In Greek mythology, Hemera was the goddess of the day, but Hemera always reminded me more of Nyx, crowned in dark mist and black-winged.

In high school, Hemera spent most of her time woven in the arms of the upright bass player from our orchestra class. He was long haired and mysterious, as she liked them. She would ask me to French braid her hair before their dates, having me incorporate the artificial flowers he’d give her into her strands. This was something my mom taught me how to do so it’d take less time to get my sisters ready in the morning when they were younger. Maybe it was Hemera’s smooth hair, or the scent of her Jasmine perfume, or watching her finally leave, but my thoughts turned to poetry. The night he broke up with her she cried on the edge of my bed.

This was when she crawled towards me, placed her hand on the calculus textbook on my lap, and kissed me.

And in that moment, any romantic feelings I had towards her dissolved into a fog.

I read in an essay once how unrequited love is a form of escapism. Briefly, perfection exists in the form of a person who you believe is immaculate. Once the feeling is returned, you realize their judgment is flawed because they’ve decided to like you of all people. They lose their divinity. The Greeks spoke of a similar sentiment, Eros: the desire for what is missing. You desire only what you lack. Once something, or someone, is finally in your possession, you can no longer want it.

And where’s the fun in that?

“Hello? Andrew? Andrés Ibarra? Do I have to say it in Spanish? Does my ass look fat or not?”

She walked over to the full-length mirror, answering her own question and taking pictures on her phone. “Also, can you not be weird around my friends? You always talk about that time you swore you saw a UFO and I don’t think you realize how much of a weirdo you sound like telling that story.”

            I sprinkled some of the Hot Cheetos dust from the bag onto her pasta and stirred.

            “No problem.”

[polandspringz]

im limiting these questions to gL fics bc i havent read any of ur other fandoms so. B, K, M, W, X, Y please

Thank you for the ask! I’ll try and think of stuff I haven’t necessarily told you since I tell you all my gen:LOCK ideas nowadays, lol.

B-  Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

With a sci-fi fandom, it’s kind of hard to base any scenario or event on personal experience, but there is probably some dialogue in one of my many fics that might be introspective. I did write a story for my gL OC, Yolanda, which isn’t published on AO3 but is floating around somewhere on my blog, and I know that one was very heavy on my own thoughts and feelings.

K-  What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

In terms of gen:LOCK, probably “(The) Chase” from my most recent series? It’s probably subjective on the angst scale, but between that and “Skinwalker” it took a lot for me to write something that felt not only horrible for the characters involved but conveyed that suspense and almost horror? My original idea for “(The) Chase” had a lot more emphasis on Chase having the realization at the end that no one was coming to save him, with a scene of him in darkness after being taken into the Union’s hands, but I forgot to write that it got scrapped.

M-  Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

You already know these because I’ve mentioned them before but, I have a prompt sitting in my inbox for a fic focused on the gL team I’m saving for after I read Storm Warning, a drabble planned for Weller’s final thoughts as the explosion in ep 6 happens, and that Weller & Yaz Reunion fic. I’ve thought about writing more with my OC since I’m getting more comfortable doing that for other fandoms, but she exists in the Alive!Weller AU/gL advances to having two teams at the Anvil so Episode 6 and beyond doesn’t happen, which makes it a bit difficult writing for her nowadays.

W-  Do you like more general prompts, or more specific ones?

I actually like vague prompts? I guess that falls under the general category? Everything comes back to my OC but a long time ago I was taking prompts for an ask meme of first sentences of the story and the only fic I ever wrote with her was one of those and it was... a mess. I find prompts that force where things must go in the narrative restricting because usually I’ll read something and immediately think of the opening. (That’s part of why I was so good at standardized tests! I could read the prompt and BOOM- my essay intro was in my head already.) I prefer prompts that are like one word and just can be interpreted in multiple ways.

X-  A character you enjoy making suffer.

I know I write angst but genuinely I don’t like making any character suffer? When I write angst my focus is always on the comfort that is soon to come. Even with Sinclair in “Skinwalker”, I’m honestly hoping whatever trauma he endured through the Union he gets some help for when he meets with the team.

...

scribbles a new fic idea in my notebook

Y- A character you want to protect.

Caliban. I feel like we’ve just scratched the surface in the show with him having part of Weller’s brain and have not explored how sentient he really is. When writing some of “Boil for Several Years, Then Steep” and even further back when I wrote my (now very canon divergent) “Programmed for Sympathy (Not Empathy)” I feel that there is a lot of potential with his character and as much as I would love to write another angst fic I hope nothing bad happens to Weller 2.0.

[yoon-kooks]

i hope you're doing well~ i was wondering have you ever felt like you've made it as a blog??

im doing well, and i hope youre doing well too anon!! thats an interesting question you have there…😳

but honestly ive never really felt that specific way before. ive been happy and excited about reaching certain milestones with this blog, ive felt like my blog mightve passed its peak already in regards to statistics and has since been going downhill LOL, but theres still so much more room for growth before i can say my blog has made it and be genuinely proud of that.

im also not sure what would define “making it” in terms of my blog. blog growth is a sign that my writing is improving & my audience is expanding, and you could put a number on it for what you want your end goal to be. but for me personally, “making it” only pertains to myself as a writer and not my blog. i know i havent even begun to scratch the surface of making it as a writer, so there’s still a long long road ahead!

ideally i would love to reach a larger audience as a writer, and im constantly working towards that goal. i know im not going to get there any time soon, but right now im just enjoying writing & improving for yall on my tiny blog🥺💖💖

[fairyharps]

hello!! i just finished kh3 so below are my thoughts. obviously, spoiler warning if you havent finished the game.

first of all...... wow!!!!!!!!!! its real!!!!!!! i held the game in my own hands and played it!!!!!!!!! 12 year old me has been screaming non stop since the release im in a fog of emotion. every time i started up the game and heard that new kh3 rendition of dearly beloved with the ocean waves i just absolutely lost it

however, in the end, i feel mixed. i guess the hype over the years built up to an astronomical amount and while the game was incredibly fun and beautiful and i love seeing the story finally pan out into the finale, in a way it also felt very short? as of writing the first few paragraphs here i have just started san fransokyo, so i havent seen the actual finale, but these are my current thoughts and i will update this as i play. i still feel like there is so much more that is going to happen and ive barely even scratched the surface

theres a lot of new information that got me going WILD. piecing everything together & theorizing is always something i find fun about kingdom hearts since its so unpredictable. in fact i got so into it i had to start taking notes and making diagrams. i love a game that makes me bust out a notebook. (i do this for hm/sos/stardew and acnl as well lmao)

also every single time ienzo came on screen i went absolutely HOG WILD. when he laughed? the little laugh?? his smile?????? just thinking about it now is making me misty eyed fellas i love my boy

the implication that demyx, luxord (was his name always pronounced luke-sord??? i always said luck-sord wtf), and obviously marluxia and larxene's somebodies are from before the keyblade war is out of control!!!! vexen and demyx being double agents for ansem the wise?? ANSEM THE WISE'S REUNION WITH IENZO!!!!!!!!?????????? also zemyx is real sdfjsdlkfjsdlkfsdlkfjsdlkf jk

uHHHHHHH VENTUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MY BABY MY SONION!!!!!!!! AND AQUA!!!!!!!!!! I'M SO EMOTIONAL!!!!!!!!!!!! im honestly losing my mind everything is coming together aaaaaaaaaaaa literally seeing ventus looking SO BEAUTIFUL is making me lose my mind AND UHH AQUA.... REALIZING SHES IN THE WORLD OF LIGHT...........DAMN U NOMURA FOR MAKING ME FEEL

S-SAIX................................. I LOVE EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!!

i felt very mixed about the paopu sharing scene. while i know this ship was always going to be endgame, i really hate how little development it actually gets throughout the Whole Series so instead it feels So forced. that scene is bone dry. the whole time i was wondering why they werent including riku since he was like.. 20 feet away.... like hes your best friend too guys.... i really am unable to understand this scene. like... nomura you KNOW how to write compelling relationships so what happened buddy. woody and buzz had more romantic tension than sora and kairi. also like when she leads him into the light or whatever.. whats the deal

i LOVE kairi but god. can you PLEASE let her do SOMETHING????? CAN I PLAY AS KAIRI??? im so tired of her being reduced to a damsel even when she has a weapon shes supposedly adept with now. she has had like.............. no development. im so sorry this happened to you kairi

im surprised there arent more worlds. i thought there would be the same or a greater number of disney worlds as kh2 but theres actually fewer?? and they feel much longer, or at least some of them do. worlds like the caribbean and toybox felt gigantic and took me forever while corona and monstropolis felt smaller. and some of the worlds you cant even fully explore until after you played through the story????

also im very intrigued about this new female character that keeps getting mentioned vaguely. i suspect there will be some intense retcons put in place abt her since she has NEVER been mentioned before dispite it seeming like shes very important. 

the final world place is very interesting conceptually but like how many times in this series am i going to have to collect soras lmao ALTHO i loved hearing from namine ;_; i miss u sweet girl

also uhh i could write for forever about sora as a character and how complex he is when you actually think abt it. i STILL see ppl saying riku is more interesting as a character but i feel like ppl only look at soras optimistic outlook. sora really keeps his feelings locked up way more than you think he would & not only that but hes so empathetic he ends up tackling everyone else's feelings too.. the idea that he is only powerful or useful because he has friends really hammers in how he says "my friends are my power" like.. every 5 seconds.. god  i love u but pls take a break for a Second. i just want him to go home and hug his mom

-

ok i just finished. like 5 mins ago. im still trying to like.. register what happened. the final act really packed a LOT together. i feel like theres too much to even mention right now. and theres still SO many questions. 

like i said before, i feel mixed. while there was a LOT to like about this game, there was also a lot that i did not like or was confused/put off by. i thought the first like, 2/3 of the game was too long and kind of boring sometimes? i couldnt handle in arendelle how they included the songs.. i get why they did it but it was NOT for me. the disney worlds kind of dragged on and, outside of the story connections to the finale, felt a little pointless. nothing happened other than the org popped in to egg on sora and then left. and the final act went by SO QUICKLY i didnt feel like there was enough time to register all the shit that was happening. also i fucking HATE how after everything, kairi was reduced to a damsel YET AGAIN. are you KIDDING ME!!!!!!!!! everything she does is off-screen and her "death" acts as a motivation for sora which is the worst way to do things like what the fuck

i personally really liked the game, even if parts were not as i initially expected. there was a lot of hype surrounding this game, but i think for what it was, it was as enjoyable to play as any kh game, and it delivered a lot of emotions, answered a few questions, created more questions, and wrapped up the dark seeker saga pretty nicely while still leaving room for future stories to be told. and BOY do i have some questions!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

people who dont like how convoluted, dramatic, weird,  tropey  or heavily-retconned the plot is might think its bad. but ppl have thought kh in general is bad for those reasons for years anyway. honestly while these are all things that i can understand and empathize with, in the end for me its about how it makes me feel rather than like, how well it follows storytelling rules? and it sure made me feel a Lot. like im saying this as a long-time superfan so lmao

anyway i cried a lot for a very long time about the following: old man yaoi, ventus and roxas being in the same shot, how everyone looks rendered in beautiful next-gen hd, lea isa  and xions new outfits, namixi date, uhhh seasalt trio finally got to go to the beach together, namine being ALIVE, all the shit everyone said after i beat them in the labrynth, how often everyone cried in this game, sora uhhh not existing??? what happened????? is this what the next game is going to be about??? 

THANKS NOMURA FOR MY FUCKING LIFE????????

[indigo474]

2/24/21-

i had to hear joe g cry monday about how much pain he was in. not just me but anyone near him boo hoo.  he even said out loud- today is a good day to be an opiate addict. i feel like im being punked- seriously who says that? is he talking to me? i have no idea. his lunch time he looks at me and says welp driving to b town on my lunch. i live in B town, find it odd but dont say anything because i dont give a fuck. yesterday leaving work he says to me driving to b town. 2nd time joe,2nd time your telling me your driving to b town. you must want me to ask u why.. so i do- he says ohh gotta take mt buddy to the Dr. Today Joe is talking a mile a minute-no pain happy as can be. out of no where he says to me- you hear a lot. i say yes i do- because i do. its fucking crazy-i swear i feel invisible half the time. i was warned yet again about my manager and was told if it gets bad i can go to someone and be removed from her team. like again wtf- i forget how many people have warned me about her-i can see their point for myself- i just want to do my job and get paid i dont want any problems. speaking of job i finally told her i was all caught up- she told me to start working on something else-today i got that caught up- she gave me more work. its easy as shit and im getting paid more to do less- i have to figure out when im taking my vacation. i get 15 paid days!! how exciting. i was suppose to go skating tonight but i dont have anyone to go with. ive asked everyone at work and no one wants to go. im not surprised. i fell down the steps at my house 10 days ago and yesterday fell off the treadmill at the gym. im lucky i didnt break my arms. im pretty banged up though-i was just telling myself that im not clumsy. ive been thinking of things and they happen a lot lately. random things- ill think of someone and get a text- ill think of something and someone will say what im thinking. it happened today on my way to work- i get off the exit and say to myself newtown dont play- meaning their truck enforcement- ive seen them out before pulling trucks over-its a whole big thing and when i see it i say to myself newtown dont play- i get off the exit that thought pops in my head and low and behold they were out- oh and numbers and names- repeating numbers- repeating names- or should i say name- i always write while im on the phone i jt down names and whatever- usually first names so i dont forget- there are times when i will find myself writing the same name 10-15 times in one day- yes its a common name but still and my birthday all the time- weird coincidences- my new mantra is i choose peace in this moment- because i do. i want nothing more then to be at peace- the past is there and it hurts- i could write endlessly about the mind fuck that was the past 20+ year- i have and i havent even scratched the surface. im sure there will be days when i will write about it some more,but today i choose peace

[jooheonies]

all i want for christmas

Character(s): gender neutral reader x kihyun, minhyuk

Genre: fluff, mild!crack

Length: 1.5k

Summary: In which Kihyun is the present.

a/n: this is for the @mxwriters secret santa event! merry christmas, @misstrespass!

↳ christmas bf!kihyun that wants to help u with all the arrangements so he offers to put the gifts for santa (milk n cookies) but then u find him as The present. milk on his tiddies and crumbs in his hair

Dating Yoo Kihyun takes a big toll on your mental wellbeing.

It begins in your first year of college, late one night when you’re standing on the shuttle headed home, eyes drooping with fatigue. Your fingers are wrapped around a cup of coffee, leaning against the disgusting pole because germs may be bad, but staying up for the past three days to study for your psych final makes you care a lot less.

And just as luck would have it, the bus driver slams his foot down on the brake harder than should ever be necessary.

It results in you flying all the way across the bus into the hands of a handsome stranger with piercing eyes and a sharp jawline.

He grins down at you, one hand pressed into the small of your back as the other one holds the nape of your neck.

“I believe you just fell for me,” he mutters, winking sleazily.

The entire bus applauds.

An introduction, a new cup of coffee, and several dates over a time period of four years later, you find yourself falling in love with the chaotic organization that is Yoo Kihyun.

-

You run the back of your hand over your forehead, wiping the nonexistent droplets of sweat off your brow, and plant both hands on your hips, stepping back to admire your work.

“You’re decorating a Christmas tree, babe,” Kihyun snorts from across the room where he’s hanging stockings across the mantlepiece. “Stop acting like it’s the World Olympics.”

“You would never know,” Minhyuk snorts, a slice of pizza dangling out from behind his lips. “Activity . . . she is not your best friend.”

“I’m good at tennis!” Kihyun protests, eyes blown wide in offense.

“Yeah, alright,” you scoff, adjusting a piece of tinsel, “Wii Sports doesn’t count.”

Kihyun bites down on his lip at that, a blush spreading across his cheeks in shades of embarrassment. “I’m– I’m good at sports!”

Minhyuk stands from the sofa, dusting the crumbs off his pants. “Keep lying to yourself like that, ugly. Anyways, I have to go buy Hyunwoo’s present, so I’m gonna blast.”

“Minhyuk,” you exclaim, poking your head around the side of the tree, “it’s Christmas Eve! How are you not done?”

Minhyuk shrugs and pulls his hoodie over his shoulders, toes slipping into his shoes. “I believe in the pressure of the moment. Besides, shopping on time is straight culture – I believe in being gay and untimely. Worst comes to worst, I’ll buy candy lingerie and have Hyunwoo eat it off my body.” He cackles, head tipping back as he pushes the door to your apartment open, ignoring the look of disgust Kihyun shoots him. “Merry Christmas!”

And with that, he’s out the door, whistling underneath his breath.

“I can’t believe we let him come over,” Kihyun sighs, shaking his head as he picks the stacks of pizza boxes off the floor. “He told me he’d buy me chicken if I let him, however,” your boyfriend raises a finger and flutters his lashes dramatically, “it appears I have been bamboozled.”

“You’re just stupid.”

Kihyun pouts. “This is not the sort of dialogue that should be exchanged during Christmas.”

“It’s not Christmas yet,” you snort, shooting him a teasing grin.

Kihyun crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in what appears to be careful nonchalance, eyes twitching. “Speaking of which . . . you never really told me what you want for Christmas.”

You hum, twirling a stray piece of tinsel around a tree branch, and wink coquettishly. “Just you.”

Kihyun’s face turns red and he nearly hacks up a lung as you giggle and return to decorating.

Another five minutes goes by and the sound of your boyfriend choking has strangely ceased, replaced by the prickling sensation of his eyes on the nape of your neck.

“What is it?” You sigh, not even bothering to turn around.

“Hey, babe,” Kihyun whispers, his breath hot on the nape of your neck. You gurgle up a screech at the sudden sensation and turn around, nose brushing against his. “I was thinkin’,” he continues, unfazed at your surprise, “I should make the gifts for Santa, y’know? The milk ‘n cookies. Really liven up the place with the smell of baking and all.”

You narrow your eyes. “Really.”

He grins beatifically, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yeah.” And before you can say anything, he’s turning on his heel and skipping into the kitchen, a stark contrast to his previous mood.

It’s suspicious.

-

A half hour later, the scent of vanilla and chocolate wafts through the air, light and buttery.

“I think I’m almost done,” Kihyun calls from the kitchen, voice loud over the sound of clanging pots and pans. “It’s all good!”

You call back a response made of garbled syllables in what you hope is an agreeable tone.

However, everything is clearly not good, because fifteen minutes later, the smell of something burning pushes its’ way into your living room. You splutter around the haze, nose crinkled as you drop the box of ornaments in your hand in favor of stalking into the kitchen.

“Kihyun, what the fuck is going o–”

There, draped over your marble counter, you find your boyfriend, clad in nothing but a santa hat and bright red boxers, a sprig of mistletoe between his teeth. He’s lying on his side over the cool surface, one foot pressed into the counter, the other dangling off the edge as he props himself up on his elbow.

Kihyun drags a hand down his torso and winks at you. “Hello, dearest,” he gurgles around the mistletoe, teeth pulled into a smile.

You blink, stunned into silence, before a curl of burning cookie floats underneath your nose and you’re snapped back into the present. “Is something burning?”

“Just my,” he swipes a tongue out, the sprig of mistletoe nearly falling out of his mouth, “burning desire for you, my love.”

You tilt your head to the side, eyes peering at the stove behind him. “Kihyun, the oven is on fire.”

Kihyun huffs and sits up, the Santa hat falling lopsided over his eyes, and pulls the mistletoe out of his mouth with two fingers. “No, I just told you it’s my desire. Please keep up.”

You throw your hands up in exasperation, moving around the kitchen island to get to the stove, clicking the off button. “Kihyun, it could’ve really been a problem –”

The feeling of Kihyun’s hands planted firmly on your waist, spinning you around to press your back against the counter cuts you off.

“Hello, I am the present,” he announces, one hand lifting to slap loudly against his chest. He winces, one eye squinting shut as he rubs the red mark on his chest.

It’s then you notice the cookie crumbs on his chest and the droplets of milk in his hair, head tilted in confusion.

“I’m the snack,” Kihyun explains without prompting, flourishing vaguely with his hand.

You blink. “Kihyun those were presents for Santa.”

“Surprise, surprise. I am Santa and I am the present and I am the snack.” He waggles his brows suggestively and grins. “You been naughty or nice, babe?”

“This is stupid.”

He raises a finger and shoots you a wink before turning around and shaking his ass a bit. “No. This is sexy.” And there, scrawled across the red boxers in curly white cursive are the words “Nice Package!”

You stare. This should not be attractive.

Kihyun hooks his chin over a his shoulder and casts a sleazy smile, lashes fluttering flirtatiously. “I have a nice package for you.”

This really should not be attractive.

He straightens and steps forward, reaching up with an arm to dangle the mistletoe above your head.

“You’re supposed to kiss me, babe,” he drawls, smirking. “That’s the point of mistletoe.”

You give him a once over, eye trailing over his startlingly shiny chest. “You’re . . . covered in oil?”

He nods and shrugs. “You know how you say I never glisten? Well –”

“Listen. You never listen.”

A silence follows.

“Oh.” Kihyun blinks. “Yeah, that makes sense. God, I should’ve thought that through before putting peppermint oil on my chest.” He scratches a nipple with a finger. “ It kind of burns.”

You roll your eyes, unable to control the smile that paints its way across your lips right after because Yoo Kihyun is nothing if not endearing.

“God you’re so stupid,” you laugh, fingers digging into his shoulders as you drag him close, pressing your lips against his.

Kihyun pushes a muffled noises of surprise against your mouth before relaxing a few seconds later, cupping your cheeks in his hands and dropping the mistletoe to the floor.

Your fingers drag up his shoulders to lope around his neck, playing with the strand on the back of his hair as you lean into the plush comfort of his lips.

“I knew this was a good idea,” Kihyun gasps, pulling away to suck in a breath before his lips are back on yours.

And it’s moments like these, standing in your kitchen with the smell of burnt cookies and peppermint oil, lips pressed against Kihyun’s, that make you fall even more in love.

a/n: mmmmmmmmhello!! i havent writter reader fics in a rly long while n i feel like ive lost my touch bc god i had to erase 5k bc i write this as a kihyuk at first jkdhfskdjhf but anyways!!!! i rly liked writing this twas a fun time!

masterlist

[dustingrayves]

boy ive been tagged by @skia-visuals, @soymilkheaven AND @amarietie!! hmmmmmm lets see then! ill include some unposted stuff and wips too, to keep it Actually last 15!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 15 stories. See if there are any patters. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

> 1: dulcet

The evenings at the lab slash house were always quiet; someone would be catching up on sleep, or outside running errands or searching for that one goddess-damned things they’re missing for their newest creation. Or they’d just be in the kitchen, absentmindedly stirring a mug of cocoa, just like right now.

> 2: natans

With the sun high in the sky and a breeze, any place could be transformed into a tranquil hideout. However, it seems to have less to do with the unobscured sun or fluttering trees, and more with the company.

Though, Sorey would be lying if he said the sound of softly flowing water and chirping birds all around didn’t help the atmosphere.

> 3: [untitled], next part of the seawards au

The ocean’s pull is unpredictable; one second the waves are calm and almost soothing, and the very next one they could be bringing a calamity, the earth’s wrath in the form of a devastating storm. But for now, it’s calm.

It’s calm when Sorey looks around, eyes skimming the shimmering surface where the sun reflects just right.

And it’s still calm when he blinks and turns to his companion, a wide grin now stretching his lips and a glimmer to his eyes, making them look just like the ever-moving water.

> 4: [untitled], tyrant king au

“We can’t raise taxes anymore, your majesty, not unless you want to face kingdom-wide rebellion and an uprising.”

The king, seated on his golden throne, taps his fingers against an armrest and huffs. “Why do you always go against everything I say?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at his advisor, who folds his scroll back up, tucking it into a fold of his long, flowing robes.

“I’m sure you haven’t forgotten my position,” the white-haired man says, as exasperated as he can. “And, frankly, all you majesty’s recent ideas were bad.”

> 5: consolo, vestimentum mea

“Hey,” comes a soft voice from the doorway.

Lusa twists from his table and mess of parts to see Esper’s portal glowing where the door should be. He’s about to make a remark about him finally taking Lusa’s requests to use doors like normal human beings to heart, but he notices the deep circles under the time traveler’s eyes (not unusual on their own, but they look a little too dark now) and his current paler-than-a-wall complexion. “Hey,” he breathes instead.

> 6: oasis

The beating sun stays in the sky for longer here than anywhere else, it feels like. Or maybe it’s just the lack of shadows that makes it feel so; the last tree they stopped under to give their hot skin a little reprieve almost wasn’t big enough, and that was while all the Seraphim were gone.

No one is quite sure of the time, though Edna does grumble that they’d been running around all day, and frankly, they’d all be much, much happier if they could get out of this hotland and back somewhere cool and shaded. Preferably an inn. And preferably right now.

> 7: auxilium

The familiar door stands before him, and yet Mikleo can’t force himself to reach out, to push it open and step inside.

Grass shuffles beneath his sole as he drags it over the breeze-fluttering greenery; his fingers tug at the leather gloves of the other hand. His heart is stuck in his throat, like a lump that refuses to leave, no matter how many times he swallows around it.

> 8: tonsus

Slow, practiced movements.

Sorey’s eyes follow them, the soft lengths of Mikleo’s fingers running through white tresses, parting and holding and weaving them together into an easy braid. It’s immaculous, almost without stray hairs, so utterly pretty and perfect and infuriating—

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” he finds himself uttering.

> 9: coeo

The castle towers tall, stone so cold he can feel it even standing paces away. Head craned back, he looks up, watching the contrast of the dark walls against the pale yellows and pinks of the setting sun.

And then he decides he had stalled enough. His feet disobey only momentarily, and then he’s pushing the main entrance open, a heavy wooden door thrice his height.

> 10:  praegressus

“You have ice cream on your lip,” Sorey points out, actually pointing at the Seraph with his (equally messy) finger.

“Oh— Lemme get a—” Mikleo reaches over to grab a handkerchief but Sorey is faster, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Mikleo’s. His tongue peeks out and swipes over the soft lips, licking the few stray droplets of the matcha cream clean before pulling away.

> 11:  clean slate 7

Lusa had thought Esper would be uncomfortable, but much to his surprise (and elation), he isn’t. Then again, he hadn’t been that uncomfortable around Knight or Arme.

At least the second time around.

Esper had taken to cooking lunch for them all, the biggest pot sitting on the stove, filled with rice. A saucepan rests next to it, thick sauce with pieces of meat slowly cooling down from its boiling point. The scent permeates the whole house; it had lulled Arc downstairs from where he’d been preparing his room for the other boys.

> 12: abet

He’s embarrassed, feeling all the blood that had rushed up to his face, but he’d already been cooped up inside the bathroom for too long, and the fact that Sorey is still silent while waiting doesn’t really say much more about his patience than his determination to go along with this. Really. Mikleo is only doing this because it’s him. He’d’ve declined without a second thought if it were anybody else.

Then again, there never would be anyone else.

> 13: flosum osculis

Like a waterfall, like a tidal wave of sea foam; white hair falls over Mikleo’s shoulders as soon as it’s out of its tie. Just as soft as it looks, and glimmering in the setting sun’s rays.

Sorey takes a moment to simply run his fingers through the curling locks, carding gently. Mikleo hums and leans backwards, into the touch, so Sorey keeps at it, softly tugging at the hair and parting it between his fingers, watching in fascination as it bounces when let go of.

> 14: quia

There’s blood thumping in his ears, and he almost misses the warehouse door creaking open. Light footsteps advance towards him, but he only snaps back to himself when a hand comes to rest on his shoulder.

“You did quite the number on him,” the man says, the low lilt of his voice dragging through Esper’s mind like the knife he grips in his tense fingers.

“Has it already been ten minutes?”

> 15: amicable

The seaweed digs into his back, unpliant underneath him as he’s pushed further into the nest. A grin plays on his lips, and he thinks he could stay like this forever.

Mikleo nuzzles into his neck again, scratching the sensitive skin with his fin and gills, and then soothing it with the softness of his hair right after. His lips press a line of soft kisses all over, just the faintest traces of teeth inbetween them.

hmmm i do notice a pattern! it seems i like to start with a description of some sort most of the time! and i know exactly why, too. i used to do a lot of writing bare bones and ive always wanted to do those poetic descriptions of places and people and idk i like to practice! also that most of these are fluffy mmmm love me that sweet sweet softness

theres not enough people left who havent been tagged that i keep up with so ill just go with @rainsonata (｡´ ‿｀♡)

[dont-sneeze]

what's wrong

well, you see dear anon

yesterday i learned that my roommate i was supposed to live with again from last semester changed apartments, so now i have to live with the roommate that i have trouble getting along with. It’s gonna be a long semester and i still have 2 months before it even starts. 

two of my friends are going through a really hard time right now. And i can’t do a single thing about it. 

ive been getting less hours at work because they’ve taken on more employees and don't want to pay us all. so they havent had me work as late and though i like the time off its more frustrating because i need! Money! to! pay! for! school!!

I crashed on my scooter on friday and scraped up my right hand pretty bad, so it hurts to do anything with it. 

I! cant! concentrate! on! anything! I can’t watch a movie, I can’t write, I can’t read! I can’t do anything!!

My apartment is a disaster. I havent done the dishes in over a week. I haven’t washed my clothes for three weeks. But I can’t bring myself to clean!!!

last night i burnt my batch of cookies pretty bad. 

Im!! Lonely!!

I burnt my other batch of cookies this afternoon.

and to top it all off, I ate a fun size Hersheys chocolate square, but it was dark! Chocolate! I hate dark chocolate.

 So there you go. That’s just scratching the surface of whats wrong. It’s so stupid i know. I know. 

im gonna shut up now

[anatomiaconautoestima]

Hello, it’s me again— i couldn’t stop thinking about this one and while I was working on something else, i found an old song and this came out.

I don’t think this was what you wanted when any of you thought about this idea but i couldn’t help it:

I apologize if there are mistakes or some parts sound weird, English is not my first lenguage and I still feel awkward at writing

Omega Teacher!Peter x Alpha student!Anthony

They havent realized they were meant to be, they were true mates. They were soulmates. Peter was to busy studying for his degrees, post grades with dr Banner and now teaching. And Anthony was too occupied being a messy kid. A trouble maker, a playboy. Creating a truthful disaster name for himself, but all his walls were turned down with one sniff at his new teacher.

Mr Parker made him feel calmer, at ease, at peace. Made Anthony nervous, with shaky hands and short breaths.

Anthony loved to tease his teacher, he lived for the rosy cheeks full of embarrassment and witty comments that almost always led him to detention. It was all fun and games until he saw them.

Anthony wasn’t sure what happened. First he’s opening his classroom door and sees Mr Parker, he sees Peter. Next thing he knows, he’s growling at his literature teacher Dr Strange, who happened to be too close to Peter for his liking; close enough to smell his sweet floral and honey scent, close enough to mark him. Close enough to fill him with rage.

His eyes were red, terrifying red with sparkles of gold, his fangs were out and his nails turned longer than ever; ready to hurt. Ready to protect what was his.

Peter screams alerted the other classrooms and the Principal tried to interfere, tried to separated them but it was impossible. Tony wasn’t letting anybody coming close to Peter.

Stephen had a cut in his eyebrow that wasn’t going to stopped bleeding anytime soon, next to a purple turning black bruce on his cheekbone at the other side of his face; a torn t-shirt that left to plain sight a nasty wound. Teeth marks and scratched skin, pulsing, bleeding and hurting. Tony had made himself clear.

Stephen was stunned.

He never imagined when he woke up that morning that he was going to get caught up in the lovely, delightful scent of his co-worker and suffer the wrath of an ire alpha.

Stephen growled feeling annoyed, his intentions of courting Peter hadn’t even begun when he was already being politely turned down; he could see it in his eyes, he could smell it in the air. But was a really rude wake up call to be snugged out, clashed over the door and having to fight another potential alpha.

It all ended with one call.

—Anthony —Peter was too scared to move, he felt his shaky legs would give up at any moment but he needed to be brave for his student. Anthony was mad. Anthony was loosing himself to his feral side, his alpha had took over completely leaving only the instinct in surface and the bright mind Peter had learnt to love at bay. —Anthony. —He tried again. He untangled himself from the wall and moved closer but the warning growl he received left him frozen in his spot. Any more time the young boy spend in feral state, more in danger he grew; he could not comeback. He might never comeback and that thought alone left Peter in agony. —Alpha —he whispered and that seem to be the right thing to say. Anthony’s pose was yet to be tense and firm, obviously still wary of Stephen but at least was conscious enough to recognize Peter, his omega.

Peter smiled small and soft.

—Alpha —Peter was at his side by the second his instinct told him it was safe and brought Anthony’s face to his neck, the boy nuzzled at the scent gland and without being able to help himself, he licked the delicate spot, being greeted with a whine and the electrifying feeling of nails scraping his scalp.

Peter took the boy’s face between his hands and stared at his eyes that slowly started to comeback to their original warm chocolate whiskey color. Gone was the desperate feeling of ownership or not so much as Peter felt more than saw a pair of sweaty hands locked on his hips.

The omega brought their foreheads together and left a chase kiss on Anthony’s nose and made him scold playfully. The alpha wasted no time in taking his lips and tasting the sweet nectar from Peter’s mouth.

Stephen cleared his throat as a reminder that they weren’t alone. The principal nor the rest of the students might not be near by but he was still in the room.

Anthony frowned at the older man and wanted to growl again but Peter won him over; the omega hugged him possessively, hiding Anthony’s face in his neck with a serious expression.

—You need to leave, Stephen. It’s not safe. Not for you. —Peter’s thread was loud and crystal clear. If anything to go by with the change in Peter’s eyes, showing a vivid gold. His omega was ready to fight anyone that dare to step close to them. Anthony needed him and Peter wasn’t going to leave him. Peter wasn’t going anywhere.

Later they could deal with the fallout of their actions. Injuring a fellow teacher, destroying public property of school grounds and the obvious growing possibility of a relationship between the two of them.

For now they would stay put, hidden from the world, tending to Anthony’s wounds with careful hands and peppering his face with butterfly kisses.

could I ask for alpha student tony stark x omega teacher peter parker

“mister stark, we-you need to leave.”

“what do you mean? i just need help with the assignment.”

“anthony. it’s time for you to go.”

“i think i’m going to stay, mister parker. besides, i can smell that you want this.”

something new and different, I like it! always up for abo 🖤🖤

[tumblunni]

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa tfw u have another game idea AGAIN i think my brain hollowed itself out for more idea space at the expense of everything else like ability to actually create my ideas or ability to remember to eat :P

this kinda isnt a NEW idea, its just something floating around in my brain that ive now got more of a concrete idea for, i guess? playing Oxygen Not Included reminded me of it and made me feel maybe people would actually be interested in it, yknow? and its probably not something i could ACTUALLY make, cos it’d require like.. a lot of my own programming. not really easy to just make in a helpful gamemaker enginey thing like rpgmaker. tho it is an rpg... kinda...?? ehhhh im not feeling very good today, sorry my writing is... bad

ANYWAY WHAT WAS I SAYING

Well the idea I has was for kind of a roguelike tower climbing rpg, like Azure Dreams or Persona 3 The premise would be that there’s a mysterious underground civilization, trapped for generations with no memory of the surface world. Between them and sunlight is this potentially-infinate magical labyrinth that nobody has managed to make it through. (At least as far as anyone knows. Everyone wants to believe that friends who dissappeared in the labyrinth actually made it to the other side, rather than.. well.. the other side.) So the game would be about tackling this labyrinth in multiple short sessions. My favourite genre: roguelikes that actually have some form of progression in them! Even though you’re dying a lot, you retain a small amount of what you gathered each time in the form of townbuilding progressyness and ~friendship routes~ and ~ETCETERA~!

But then after playing Oxygen Not Included I kinda have a burning desire to see a game that has the good bits of that and not the... Frustration. To say its a roguelike without progression is understating it, gahhhhhhhhhh! Roguelike sim game of 8 hour game sessions that get destroyed cos of one stupid mistake and you have to be all perfect and lucky and YOURE ALWAYS STARVING and gahhhhhhhhh THIS IS MEANT TO BE MY GAME IDEA NOT VENTING ABOUT THAT GAME Anyway I was thinking how it’d be really cool if a game like that actually DID have a sense of progression. And an actual end goal. Like.. if you were actually digging towards the surface! With periodic savepoints and characters that dont die so easily and have more personality to them and you get all attatched! I already got all attatched to my dumb sim characters and then just got really upset how they kept dying and the game seemed to not give a shit :P

But yeah its not like I can just completely copy that game, lol. Even if I wanted to, I dunno how to program a simulation type engine thing from scratch! So i was thinking like.. a regular roguelike randomized dungeon generator actually IS possible in Rpgmaker, so I dunno.. I could find a way to make that work with some kind of ‘you are actually creating the dungeon’ type thing. i really like the idea of being able to dig your own path through the thing and have it permenantly etched there forever. I was thinking it could be an awesome idea if in the postgame you could come back to the now-empty labyrinth after everyone’s escaped to the surface, and be able to walk through it and have a big ol nostalgia trip. One that’d be unique to every player! And like.. maybe even be able to see changes, like it being reclaimed by nature and flowers? And you could upload a dungeon seed for your own personal dungeon, so that other players could play it, and that could be the postgame replay value~!

game name ideas i guess Catacomb Crawl Boundless Down

and I was thinking the protagonists could be two kids and be a grumpy older sibling who’s a jerk to their well-meaning-but-immature lil sib, but loves them deep down, and has to learn a lesson about becoming a more responsible sib, and etc like.. yeah.. basically inspired by over the garden wall i didnt really like that show, and i felt bad about it cos everyone was telling me it was a masterpiece. alas! :P aaanyhoo they’re not very developed yet, except older sib being a bit of a comical greedy coward type of person and lil sib actually being quite wise but always underestimated. Like, they have more common sense than their big sib even though they are a lil naive sometimes cos theyre so optimistic. Both sibs get each other into trouble pretty often, but they balance out perfectly to save each other each time! And lil sib is kind of a pushover who just obeys big sib unquestionably and can never stick up for themself when big sib is being all ‘ugh ur so immature im totally better'. They’re just like... the sort of person who’s so scared of their friends leaving them that they let anyone hurt them as much as they want as long as they stay. Very relateable to Bunni! Also they sorta try and pretend to be the dumb sidekick and class clown. Cos again theyre worried if they disagree or try and stand out too much then their sibling will hate them. Quite often their ‘dumb mistakes’ are actually the older sib’s fault, and they’re stuck like ‘AAAA I CANT TELL THEM TO STOP COS ITD BE OUT OF CHARACTER. I NEED TO BE THE CUTE BABY.’ And its all super complicated cos older sib acts like they resent them for never growing up too, its like.. cant ever win. This whole thing has kinda turned them into an anxious mess deep down. part of big sib’s whole redemption arc would involve them having to realise that their actions arent harmless, and treating such a young child this way actually has a permenant effect. And like... big sib doesnt know how to take care of little sib on their own because they’re immature themself! Being able to admit that instead of trying so hard to be all fake ultra mature and infallible, thats another big character arc. As well as aknowledging that lil sib is indeed growing up and becoming someone intelligent and independant. And realizing that the reason they keep putting them down is so they can try and deny that, and the reason they’re denying it because theyre JEALOUS! Jealous that little sib might have their emotions more alltogether than them, scared that their emotionless facade of perfect big sibness will be broken, and scared that without that they’ll have nothing left. Need to become more comfortable with trusting and relying on your lil sib, need to actually talk to them about this stuff, yo! Ideally I’m gonna try and write it in a way that doesnt make big sib seem like a completely hateable villain. Their backstory is gonna involve being from not exactly the nicest family, and both struggling to escape what they’ve been shaped into. And trying to learn how to take care of each other as a real family, when they have no real frame of reference for what real love looks like. And also climbing a bigass tower to save humanity from being entombed underground, but that’s comparatively easy, lol! But yeah the idea is that big sib kinda absorbed more of their bad parents’s ideals, and like... they love their sibling so utterly and deeply because they just did not know what family love felt like until they came along. And it really REALLY hurts them whenever they realise they’ve been subconciously being neglectful or hateful towards the lil fella, but theyre so distracted by like.. the greed of being free now. And doing anything and everything, drunk on that freedom! And not really being capable yet of caring about other people when they havent even learned how to care about themself. They keep being all decadent and delinquent and it seems like theyre egotistical but still deep down they HATE themself and this is all just like a ‘fake it til you make it’. And its so easy to get caught up and go too far to try and put on this facade, and they feel they cant really vent their real feelings to anyone. Cos they’re super cynical dont trust anyone except sibling loyalty like. Only way to survive! And like... cant talk about it with the sib either, because little kid wouldnt understand, and if they do then that means theyre not little anymore. They dont wanna ruin lil sib’s childish innocence cos like.. that innocence is their only reason to live. Innocent stupid bastion of family love, came into their life and gave them the courage to deal with those shitty parents gahhh! And part of them ‘knows’ that the only way to love anyone is to be deluded and innocent. You have to be too stupid to realise that the world is awful and everyone sucks and loving people just gets you hurt! And big sib is toooootally smart cos they know that life is meaningless. But they’re entertained by seeing a stupid person stupidly believe in optimism. Totally. Thats the only reason they wanna protect that innocence. Totally. sooooo basically imagine a very mentally ill mess of a preteen that’s curled up in the corner crying perpetually within their own mind, while on the outside they’re all HA HA I’M AMAZING, BITCHES And also imagine that bunni is able to write good enough to explain these damn characters aaaa im very tired im sorry

anyway summary: protagonist is a jerk, Character Development: The Game, you will cry for little sib whom is basically like penny from inspector gadget also I was thinking maybe this could be the one and only time I do the Amnesiac Protagonist Cliche Setup. eeeexcept not really?? well i mean I think it’d work cool if these characters were new to this setting, but I wouldnt actually do 100% amnesia thing I was thinking more like... they are the only two people who came from the outside world. And they just can’t remember how they got here, they wake up trapped in this place and everyone thinks theyre crazy for talking about being from somewhere aboveground. So you have an even more desperate motivation to escape compared to everyone else! I mean of course everyone wants to return to the surface, but its been so long that no-one remembers what it’s like, and so many attempts have failed that they’ve all given up. So you can act like a beacon of hope and lead the people even though you’re just a child. Like, this is about a morally bankrupt trash protagonist being dragged kicking and screaming into heroism, lol And of course we can have some good ‘ol mystery amnesia reveal type plot thingies! But without having to have a protagonist who’s COMPLETELY clueless, and a game beginning with no direction whatsoever. Its more like a ‘trapped in another world’ story except its the same world just a few thousand miles underground, lol. And revealing how exactly they got there and what they’ve forgotten is gonna be a plot, yes, but also there’s the bigger mystery of what on earth this doom labyrinth is and what caused these poor people to be trapped in it! And what they’ll even find when they finally reach the surface again, will it really be the sort of paradise they’re all hoping for? also many tears for sad dysfunctional tiny family of awkward childrens, ye also (hopefully) fun dungeon gameplays

so yeah bunni is tired and delirious and rambling Thoughts at you dunno if anyone was interested in any of this, but there you go!

[hoorayfornicepeople-blog]

February 26, 2018

Where to begin? Probably with a deep breath. Two months from today, I will be on a plane back to the States, which means I have reached the half way point. Time certainly doesn’t slow down. Today I went to the immigration office in Kampala to swap my tourist visa out for a student visa, symbolic of some sort of greater permanence, of this becoming a kind of home and less of a quick stop along the way.

This week is probably also the busiest week of the semester so far (or so it feels). Last week was spring break, which I spent on my rural homestay, with a family in Soroti, in the Serere district of Northern Uganda. We left last Friday on the 16th and returned just last night (Sunday). The week left me with an awful lot to process through, which made jumping into this busy week quite challenging. Today, I struggled to balance the need to prioritize processing, with some of the pressing academic tasks that needed to be done. This has been a consistent thread this semester, but it felt particularly heightened today. I spent the week totally unplugged from technology and the rest of the world and reentry last night brought me 169 new emails and zero desire to read any of them. The emotional energy required to talk with people and explain my week to them proved difficult to find. Many of you have already responded to my inability to explain with understanding and grace.

Tonight, in an attempt to sort through the emails remaining unread from last night, I read the notes from the first La Vida training, which happened last week while I was away. (Update in case I haven’t told you— headed to the Adirondack’s to Sherpa in August!!) Per usual with God’s timing, the “devo thought” from the training was so poignant and relevant to my inner dialogue that I could have cried. It was taken from Elton Trueblood:

“The man who supposes that he has no time to pray or to reflect, because of social tasks which are urgent and numerous, will soon find that he has become fundamentally unproductive, because he will have separated his life from his roots….A man has made a step toward a genuine maturity when he realizes that, though he ought to perform kind and just acts, the greatest gift he can give others consist in being a radiant and encouraging person. What we are is more significant in the long run, than what we do. It is impossible for a man to give what he does not have.”

Yesterday, Will had reminded me to give myself permission to prioritize my mental, emotional, spiritual health/need for processing and reflection, even if that meant temporarily setting aside an assignment or other academic task. You know me enough to know that this advice is a tough pill for me to swallow, even though I know it’s true. Today, it was abundantly clear to me that lack of processing, even briefly, was leaving me “fundamentally unproductive,” no matter how much I tried to discipline myself. And so here I am, engaging in one of the most cathartic exercises I’ve ever known, writing. As usual, I am grateful for your willingness to sit patiently and listen while I attempt to sort through the richness of this experience and put it into words.

Spring Break 2k18… last year during spring break there was a giant blizzard. This year, in Sortoti, the average weekly temperature was somewhere around 100 degrees (not even hyperbolizing here). I went into the week expecting I would sleep in a hut, slaughter a chicken, carry water on my head, and milk a cow. I did none of the above. There’s a lesson on perception and expectations in there. When I was dropped off on Saturday, my host mama matter-of-factly informed me— “This week, it will be too hot for activities, but we will prepare food, eat, and sit.” That turned out to be an incredibly accurate synopsis of the week. In addition to the heat, we are currently on the tail end of dry season, which contributed to the lack of activity, since my host parents primarily farm. The third and final factor that shaped the level of activity of the week was that both of my host parents are in their 70s,  incredibly strong and fit, but still doing less physically demanding work at this stage of life.

However, here are some things that I did get to do:

Bucket bathed… a lot

Drank 4,000 Nalgenes a day (don’t worry Mom, I stayed hydrated)

Rested

Star gazed

Ate food

Went to church

Visited the village center

Learned to remove the internal organs of a chicken prior to cooking it

Washed dishes

Did laundry

Drank tea

Swept and mopped the house

Learned to cook a lot of things in the outdoor kitchen— posho, lots of different kinds of potatoes, soup, greens, millet/potato/sorghum bread…

Constructed an underground oven and cooked sweet potatoes in it

Rested

Read 600+ pages (spread between three books)

Sat in silence

Listened to the radio

Beat, winnowed, and separated millet

Rested

Ate more food

Visited the neighbors

Sewed pillowcases

Shelled G-nuts

Picked, cut, and ate jackfruit

Spent too much time in the pit latrine after eating jackfruit

Watched thunderstorms from the porch (It rained four nights in a row. Before leaving for the week, Eddie told us the mzungus always bring the rain to Soroti. I thought it was a crazy superstition, but it turned out to be absolutely right.)

Drank more tea

Rested

Picked and ate fresh oranges

My mama’s favorite phrase was “you go rest now,” since my room was like an oven during the day, this usually meant finding the shadiest spot and reading my book or journaling, rather than taking a nap. In combination with the amount of time I already spent sitting in silence with my host parents, or by myself in between other activities, this was wild. Before leaving, I asked people to pray for my ability to be present. God responded by providing opportunities to be present in excess. Retrospectively, the time that I had this week to reflect, contemplate, learn, and rest was truly valuable, but my impatience made it difficult to recognize in the moment. I experienced a week of simplicity, with little urgency. A culture not enslaved to clock time or schedules, but guided by the needs of the present moment, subsistence, and the daily rhythm of the earth. It was simultaneously one of the most challenging, defining, and enriching (still convincing myself of the last part) parts of the week.

The week included some of my most challenging experiences in communicating cross-culturally– navigating difficult conversations, pushing myself not to be dismissive of a differences of opinion rooted in cultural conditioning, doing my best to practice humility and openness, and learning that I have an accent that is at times hard to understand. This is something I still need to unpack, but you can ask me about it if you’re curious.

Much of what I learned this week came through lots of observation and listening. I learned a lot about the historical and current politics of Northern Uganda and it’s rocky relationship with President Museveni, who punishes the region by withholding government resources or using discriminatory policies, because of the imbalance of power based in tribal/ethnic divisions. I learned about theology, community, he education system, marriage, death, parenting, family, environment, land and agriculture, politics, and history all as they’re shaped by the culture and context of Northern Uganda. Detailing each of these would  take an incredible number of words.

I also learned about some of the most prominent poverty related issues Ugandans are experiencing, particularly related to education and medical care. Serere is and has been one of the most impoverished areas of Uganda. However, hear me on this. When you close your eyes and picture poverty in Africa, that image in your mind is not a universal representation. I learned that about myself and my own preconceptions this week for sure. I wrestled (and still am, present tense) with the task of attempting to define and understand poverty and all that is wrapped up in that. In the West, one might look at my host parents and consider them poor. But they do not struggle to put food on the table, they sustain themselves through the land they own and the food they grow. They understand conservation, care for what they own, and work very hard. If measured, their land and animals could translate to monetary value that would increase their material wealth significantly. At the same time, in the village this week, I observed acute poverty that has been unmatched by anything in the previous two months. All the while, I was reading “The White Man’s Burden,” a convicting critique by a former World Bank economist of Western involvement in the developing world, particularly through aid, military and political interference, and all forms of residual neocolonialism. I don’t think I will ever stop grappling with the irreparable damage we have done in our pursuits of materialism and power, and our misuse of resources and privilege. This paragraph is insufficient to express my questions and tangled thought processes about this particular topic, but for now, it’s what I’m capable of writing.

By the end of the week, I had more questions than answers. Honestly, what else is new. On Friday morning, we were picked up and drove to Kapchowra, about an hour away, where we spent the weekend. On Friday night, we spent time in intentional debrief, which was helpful, but in many ways only began to scratch the surface of our 25 different experiences. Saturday, we had a day of emotional (but definitely not physical) rest. After a lovely breakfast, we hiked Mount Elgon, an extinct volcano and home to the famous Sipi Falls, one of Uganda’s bigger tourist spots. The ten mile hike was exhausting, but refreshing and breathtaking. I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.

We had a quick thirty minute respite after the hike before we began a “coffee tour.” Kapchowra is the OG home of the Arabica coffee bean, discovered long ago by a lucky farmer who just wanted to find out why his goats were getting hyper after eating the leaves of some tree with redish colored berries. On the tour, we got to learn about and help with the process of making coffee, from picking beans  to pouring a steaming cup and everything in between. Definitely a highlight for me, even if it was a horribly touristy activity. Shown in the photo below is me shelling coffee beans. Not pictured was the slap happy, caffeine induced state my roommates witnessed me in after the effects of having more coffee than I’ve had in two months kicked in. Let’s say I was laughing at everything and didn’t get the most sleep I’ve ever gotten, but it was quite worth it.

On Sunday morning, we hiked to the top of the little hill above the guest house for a small worship service before our departure. I was asked to give a brief testimony about what God has been teaching me in this first half of the semester (in 5-10 minutes??). I spoke about patience. presence, and newness, the ways that He has been revealing my restlessness to me, but it felt next to impossible to come up with some concise summary of the work He has done in me in the past two months (and is surely continuing to do). Thanks for sticking with me and reading this long post to the end. If it feels open ended, that’s because my thoughts are open ended in so many ways right now. I don’t want to settle for a pretty packaged or over-simplified version of the week. In some areas, I settled for brevity in this post, because I don’t want to risk sounding like I have the answers.  I know the week was hard; I know the week was valuable. I know it left me with even more to ponder than I already had, which I didn’t know was possible. As I talk with you individually in the coming weeks, don’t be afraid to ask me questions, because they will help me in my pondering, but know that I am unresolved and still figuring out how to understand.

A brief post-script. Some people (not necessarily any of you) have made comments to my USP friends and I that come with a perceived bravery or accomplishment in what we did last week. “You lived in a rural village in Africa?! That must have been so hard, you are so brave!” or something of the sort. All I will say is that I am not brave. My attitude at points during the week was not even in the ballpark of praiseworthy. This whole thing is as far from being about me as possible. I felt like an outsider this week, even though I was being welcomed into a community. Don’t hear me being dismissive of your encouragement. But I challenge all of you to not let your perceptions of African poverty to shape your visions of my experience. I think these kinds of comments, while well intentioned, are rooted in subconscious (read: often distorted) pictures of the reality of a place like this. I hope that as I communicate to you, the things I say will never glorify or manipulate the things I am experiencing as a result of my own pride and desire for affirmation. Please call me out if you ever see or hear this in my words. Thanks again for being in my corner.

All my love,

Abs

Spring Break February 26, 2018 Where to begin? Probably with a deep breath. Two months from today, I will be on a plane back to the States, which means I have reached the half way point.

[briinleyisms]

LMAO HEY MTV IT’S MARCY WELCOME 2 MY CRIB

“LMAO” AKA “ ( x ) ( x ) ( x ) #squadgoals”

ok so lowkey have had this muse for like ten years (ive been rping since i was seven fucking beat me) but every rp i bring her 2??? drops after like??? five days likE LISTEN THAT IS NOT HOW U RUN A RP LISTEN!!! UP!!! PUT UR BACK INTO IT!!!

anyhoW ok unlike ivan since i was still figuring out his bg w rosie when i posted his ‘intro’ i actually got brinley figured out and there’s a long version and a short version. imma put the tl;dr up here ok bc the non-tl;dr is overwhelming. personality is like.... toTALLY POINTLESS WHO CARES ABT PERSONALITY but it’s at the bottom i guess :\

TL;DR:

ok basically she was born into a death cult in aliso viejo, california (tbh i just looked up rural places in ca and chose the most recently established one i could find lmao) called ‘the children of the revelation’ bc im extra. lots of fear-mongering revolving around the idea of The End of Days™. leader was a total prophet and totally abused his prophet power. planned out ritual for end of days was lowkey highkey terrifying (‘let’s go die in the river of miracles’!!!!!! [too extra help me]) and one of the ‘apostles’ was like ‘i quit’ and left iN THE DEAD OF NIGHT!!! and lowkey basically kidnapped a few ppl including BUT NOT LIMITED TO brinley and they wound up in hillsboro and ‘apostle luke’ eventually left and now she’s in the oikos house. fin.

also sik tattooz bro.

ACTUAL VERSION THAT IS LONG(ER):

TW: cult (ofc), death, violence

firST it’s of note that i considered being rly fucking extra by putting quotations around her name bc her birth name is genesis like the book of revelations which brings me 2

my Extra™ title for this cult: “The Children of the Revelation”

so it was like a commune located in some place in CA that’s apparently rural and has only recently been established called ‘aliso viejo’ and lmao watch one of yall live there

but yeAH OK commune not just a church like the church of scientology like full on “u chose this life time 2 prove ur dedication”

alright so just full disclosure that i really really want to get this right and i know no one who has ever been in a cult (let alone a death cult) and i myself have not (as is likely expected) so i have already done research but i plan on doing like 100x more since this is a really serious subject. serious to the point that i’m not even using text slang (although i will when i get on with the intro post i just gotta).

anyhoW w that info out of the way time 2 get 2 the actual like point of the cult

first of all her mom joined the cult before she was born (ofc) and she was the gift!!! between her mom and one of the leader’s ‘apostles’!!!

so!!! 

basically: “lmao ur not leviticus enough 4 us.” (probs their slogan)

ok but obviously that’s scratching the surface like the real fuckery lied w/in two thing:

literal death cult (will get to that)

also doomsday cult

which sometimes go hand-in-hand anyhow

ok so the doomsday thing is what was more prominent in her life since she was 16 when she #escaped and never rly disobeyed (so many things 2 get 2!!!)

the leader’s name was ezekiel (cheever this is actually salem circa 1690) and he perceived himself as a prophet and naturally.... had prophecies. one of the most prominent ones was that the rapture would occur at 11:59PM on December 24th, 2011 (take away four days and add a year and u got the end of the world according 2 misconceptions abt the mayan calendar!)

the idea was that if u obeyed what ezekiel told u 2 do (he believed he was the fourth reincarnation of christ) u would end up going 2 heaven on judgment day but if u disobeyed...... yikes.

it depended on the magnitude of the ‘crime’ but for the most part if u disobeyed more than two times u were killed. u were hung or drowned and u were made an example of.

if u disobeyed less than two times and ur ‘offense’ wasnt worthy of immediate death dw!!! u can scrape by w torture!!! and also be made an example of!!!

so basically u were at ezekiel’s beck and call. every little bit of labor he asked u 2 do was like.......... if u didnt do it yiKES!!! ofc children werent expected 2 perform any laborious tasks rather just 2 listen and take in everything ezekiel and his apostles told them.

his ‘apostles’ who (as u can infer) served as his right-hand men were the fathers 2 all the children who would be born inside the cult. they kept ppl in line. they taught the kids when ezekiel was busy. those sorta things u kno???

ok so imma skip over some of the details that are like.... worse??? like theyre all bad but like these are the things i j feel like shouldnt be brought up in an intro post but theyre in the hella long rough-draft bio here that i went ahead and put up for this purpose rly

SO THAT BEING SAID THIS WAS SORTA A WAY 2 SHOW THE SORTA ENVIRONMENT SHE WAS RAISED IN AND IT SOUNDS FUN AND I WOULD LOVE 2 BE A PART OF IT.

so ok imma try 2 make this next part go quicker

basically the ‘judgment day’ was closing in and ezekiel’s plans were rly like no thank u ( (TW: SUICIDE) ’hey guys! 2 make sure we get into heaven not only do u have 2 follow all of my commands since im jesus’s fourth reincarnation but we all also have 2 walk into a river with rocks in our pockets at the time the world is supposed 2 scorch with hell’s fire!’ (END TW) fun christmas activities for u and ur bae.

as it started closing in it was basically all ezekiel talked abt during his ‘sermons’ like wtf??? what a church service.

‘apostle luke’ (i hate myself) was like “ok..... ok the more u talk abt this the less believable it sounds..... like wtf jesus’s fourth reincarnation??? pics or it didnt happen.” and after some months he wound up concocting this plan 2 #escape bc honestly??? 

so he eventually eSCAPED in the deAD OF NIGHT and basically kidnapped ppl like ok sure luke

one of said ppl was brinley which i kno is unexpected. (honestly i think this is like??? maybe the third time i brought her up in all of these bullets??? honestly @me

“wAS NOT WILLING 2 GO!!! WAS NOT HAPPY 2 GO!!! WAS NOT READY 2 GO!!! NEEDS SOMEONE 2 FOLLOW!!! DOES NOT KNO WHAT 2 DO!!! DOES NOT APPRECIATE THIS!!! IS SHOOK!!!” - everyone luke fucking kidnapped then basically had 2 serve as a stand-in ezekiel for

they ended up in hillsboro after like 84 years and he was like “OK EVERYONE GETS NEW NAMES!!! :D” and tbh he probs just pulled out one of those baby books pointed 2 a random name and bam!!! that was their name

so even tho i’ve been calling her brinley this whole time just 2 make it??? not confusing??? genesis became brinley and she was no longer a book of revelations she is apparently a name that’s most prominent in utah

over time ppl pce’d out (not rly bc they wanted 2 but bc they needed 2 like u get what i mean.)

it ended up j being three ppl in their shitty apt!!! one luke one brinley and one kid who has a name but 1) i havent mentioned it yet and 2) i dont want 2 go look for it in the bio tbh

doomsday came and brinley was shook!!! rly rly shook!!! trying 2 find out what 2 do that would be similar enough 2 what thE CHILDREN of the corn would do!!! and luke was like ( x )

a lot more climatic than im acting like it was but this is so long i dont want 2 spend too much time on anything anymore but ok minor point is homemade inkin’ machine (legit mainly bc ryan ashley -dave navarro voice- [has/had] what it takes... to be ink master. -end voice-)

ok luke left eventually and idk so did the kid idk that’s in there and at first she was like “lmao idk what 2 do ig imma squat [man ivan and brinley #parallels] and keep doin what im doin” and she did and ok

aFTER ALL OF THIS OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST WRITE she wound up w the oikos (bc honestly u can only squat for so long and who the fuck would be like “yes! i would like 2 be inked by a kid on the street who doesnt rly have anywhere 2 put anything! yes!” [i would be like that #exposed]) and is now somewhere where ppl dont think the world will end soon wtf

personality but who cares abt that:

WOW THAT WAS LONG

ok!!! so i never rly had a clear definition of her personality i just like... waited 2 see (BEFORE THE RP CLOSED FUCK THAT) but then i watched a long-ass chipotle commercial (theres this one part where a cow is basically abt 2 be slaughtered and idk it’s so sad it was rly playin up that pathos i wanted 2 cry) and i was suddenly like!!! a lightbulb!!! “aha!!! basically fiona apple’s cover of ‘pure imagination’”

SO 2 GET ON W THAT

it’s been five years since she escaped and started desocializing from that lyf she knew but like............ five years compared 2 sixteen i mean which one’s gonna weigh the other out tbh (i just typed ‘way’ i cannot believe myself pls send me back 2 first grade)

so ok literally LITERALLY it is this song like im tryna think of how 2 explain it???

like the lyrics of it are (u kno willy wonka) v bright (albeit a bit ??? during that spin part) but the bg in fiona apple’s cover is so??? dark??? and honestly fiona apple’s voice just makes everything seem darker (i love fiona apple shes such a queen)

so it’s a v contradicting song

and she has a v contradicting personality

like ok one big thing that fits this contradiction is she feels like she needs someone 2 follow??? since that’s how it’s been almost all of her life??? (come 2 think of it i wouldnt be surprised w my subconscious if that’s the reason she’s still in the oikos house [asides from jobless but]) but at the same time like??? she WANTS 2 be independent??? she WANTS 2 be able 2 build a life for herself and around herself and not someone else but??? it just doesnt work that way???

MORE CONTRADICTION!!! bc of that whole ‘death/doomsday cult’ thing she is a p paranoid person??? but??? at the same time??? c h i l l ??? i mean in any case shes always gonna be lowkey paranoid but she doesnt??? rly act that way most of the time??? this could also be filed under “very curious about the norms of this brand new society but also very wary and prefers 2 Not™”

MORE!!! lmao ok religion idek what 2 do here honestly it’s so fucked. she knoWS IT’S SO FUCKED IT’S SO FUCKKING FUCKED but 16/21 years like??? v hard 2 get over that??? buT IT’S SO FUCKED. like no hate no discriminate (speaking of no discriminate highkey bi i love wlw) but also “everyone is a sinner and so am i we are living in sin we are going 2 burn it is only a matter of time satan where u @???” so like??? scared and wary??? but also??? fucked.

A LOT OF FUCKING FUCKERY. 

A FIONA APPLE SONG.

THANK U AND GOODNIGHT

if u would like 2 plot pls do feel free 2 like this or hmu

and if u actually READ that all then holy shit ur a saint u would make it 2 heaven on rapture day